Work Text:
Castiel had had plenty of bad wake up calls before. There was the time his older brother, Gabriel, thought it would be hilarious to slide into bed with him and let the half-asleep Castiel rut against him. Then there was the time that a woman’s lover figured out that she was cheating on him and decided to burn the cabin down around the two of them. Also, the time that he fell asleep beside what turned out to be a vampire who was not impressed at finding out that they both had a double agenda.
But there was no time that he could remember that was quite like this. The strange pressure on his chest was what ultimately woke him up, and he opened his eyes only to find himself staring straight into a beautiful set of green eyes. His mouth twitched automatically into a smile at the memory of what those eyes had looked like last night. He lifted his hands to Dean’s hips, wanting to feel that smooth skin beneath his fingertips, and only then registered the pressure at his throat and the hardness on Dean’s face.
He froze. “Dean?”
“Shut up,” Dean barked, and then there was movement out of the corner of Castiel’s eye. Sam stepped into view, arms folded across his chest, one hand clutching a familiar blade. It didn’t take a genius to guess that a second, identical blade was being held to Castiel’s throat. He sighed, torn between frustration at having been found out and admiration that the hunters had ultimately caught on.
“Tell me,” he said, returning his gaze to Dean. “What gave me away?”
Dean’s lip curled. “What, did you think I wouldn’t notice the sudden lack of nightmares?”
“Most people don’t,” Castiel admitted. “Though, to be fair, I usually only sleep with someone twice at the most, so you had more opportunity. And you’re a hunter, so you’re naturally more observant.” He couldn’t help the approval that was audible in his voice, and Dean tensed a bit.
“What makes Dean so special?” Sam demanded.
The honest answer was “everything”, but Castiel bit it back at the last second. Dean wouldn’t appreciate that kind of sentiment right now. “Your nightmares are particularly horrifying,” he said instead. “You have seen so much, but your soul remains pure. I have never tasted anything so exquisite.”
He intended for the comment to be a compliment, but Dean immediately blushed bright red and sputtered something unintelligible. Sam just rolled his eyes and let his arms drop to his sides, though he maintained his grip on the blade.
“It was foolish on my part,” Castiel went on. “To continue sleeping with you. An indulgence…” He trailed off. It was the kind of behavior that had gotten Gabriel kicked out of his pack. If there was one solid rule of dream eating, it was to make sure that you were never noticed. And now he’d not only been found out, he’d been caught by two hunters. It wouldn’t have mattered either way what kind of reaction his pack had, as Castiel hadn’t seen any of them except for Gabriel in centuries, but now he would have the extra excuse of being dead.
He tipped his head up a little more, welcoming the kiss of the blade.
“Wait,” Sam said. “Wait, Dean.”
“Why?” Dean demanded. “Son of a bitch has just admitted to feeding on me, Sammy.”
“I know. And what’s why I think – we’ve got it wrong. He’s innocent.”
“What?” Dean and Castiel said together.
Sam ran a hand through his already messy hair. His eyes were glazed with exhaustion. “Think about it, dude. I haven’t read anything about gluttony in my research. If he already has you to feed on, why the hell would he bother going for anyone else? It just doesn’t make any sense. Alp demons aren’t –”
“You thought I was an alp demon?” Castiel said indignantly.
“You gonna tell us you’re not?”
“I am a dream eater,” Castiel said, still bristling. “Alp demons are a disgrace to our kind. They cause nightmares in their intended victims; nightmares that continue for years after the initial exposure if the demon doesn’t kill the victim first. And do you know what alp demon induced nightmares taste like? Rotten beer.”
Dean wrinkled his nose and sat back, for the first time removing the blade from Castiel’s throat. “Ew.”
“Indeed. That’s why I’m here. To get rid of it.”
“You’re a hunter?” Sam asked skeptically.
“In a way,” Castiel said slowly, eyeing the two of them. “It’s not necessary for alp demons to kill, but it gives their kind a cheap thrill and puts my kind in danger. We try to dispose of alp demons whenever possible. I first picked up on the possibility of an alp demon in this area three weeks ago. That’s why I’m here. I should have left when I realized you two had shown up, but…” He couldn’t resist looking back at Dean. He wasn’t lying. Dean’s nightmares were the most delicious dreams he’d ever tasted, but almost as good was the peaceful look on Dean’s face when he was able to sleep without torment.
“So you don’t kill people,” Sam said.
Castiel shook his head. “What good is a dead human to me, Sam?” he asked wearily. “I feed off of nightmares. The healthier a human, the better the taste of those nightmares. Dead humans can’t dream.”
Sam gave him a hard, searching look before he reluctantly nodded. “I guess that makes sense. Do you have any idea how to find it?”
“What time is it?” Castiel asked.
“Just after midnight.”
“I can usually find them by sampling the dreams of those who are asleep. But in a city like this, it's nearly impossible for me to get everywhere before dawn."
“We’ll drive you,” Sam said, and Dean’s head snapped around to stare at him.
“We’re just taking the word of the supernatural creature?” he asked in disbelief.
“Cas, give us a minute.” Sam gave his brother a look. Dean glared right back.
Deciding that granting Sam’s request was probably the wiser choice, Castiel cleared his throat and gently tapped Dean on the hip. “I need you to move so I can get up.”
The mortified pink blush that heated Dean’s face was adorable. He’d clearly forgotten that he was still sitting astride Castiel’s hips. He quickly clambered off and Castiel sat up, not bothered at all by the fact that he was naked. Sam looked away modestly, but Dean didn’t. He met Castiel’s eyes, still blushing, and refused to turn his head as Castiel reached for his boxers and jeans. Castiel didn’t mind. That Dean was still willing to look at him at all was a good sign.
When he was dressed, he left the brothers standing by the bed and crossed the room alone. He stepped outside the motel door with his shoes in hand. It was raining hard, and within a few seconds Castiel was soaked. He didn’t mind. He put his shoes on and stood there, hands in his pockets, looking out across the parking lot. Instinctively he cast his senses out, but most of the people around him were sleeping easily – and those that weren’t hadn’t been tainted by an alp demon.
Not surprising. Alp demons preferred to work their poison on humans who were settled, because it took roughly three days of repeated exposure before the human became tainted. People like Sam and Dean, who were prone to picking up and taking off at the drop of a hat, were too likely to turn out to be wasted effort. Which was for the best, as a protective rage swept through him at the thought of an alp demon trying to taint Dean or even Sam. The Winchester brothers were off limits.
It took about fifteen minutes for the brothers to come out of the room. Sam came out first, carrying Castiel’s trench coat over his arm. He stopped short when he saw Castiel, his face falling. “Dude, why didn’t you tell us it had started raining?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Castiel said.
“Won’t you get sick?” Dean asked, an indecipherable look on his face.
Castiel shrugged. In some ways, he was just as vulnerable as a human. It was unlikely for him to get sick, but on occasion it had happened in the past. Dean huffed, scowling, and snatched the coat away from Sam. He threw it over Castiel’s head, even though it was too late for it to do any good now, and gripped him by the shoulders to steer him over to the Impala. He was muttering under his breath the whole time, something about idiots who were too dumb to come in out of the rain.
“Aren’t you worried about the Impala’s seats, Dean?” Sam asked. He had to speak loudly to be heard over the rain, but that did nothing to reduce the size of the smirk on his face.
“Shut up, Sam,” Dean snapped, wrenching the back door open. The hand that he put on Castiel’s shoulder was gentle, though, as he pushed Castiel down enough to slide into the backseat. Castiel pulled the coat the rest of the way off his head, glancing back and forth between the two brothers in confusion. Dean got into the front seat and staunchly refused to look back, but Sam winked at him.
“Got any ideas about where we should drive first?” he asked.
“I’ve walked through the south side of the city already with no luck,” Castiel said, which garnered him twin looks of surprise.
“Dude, that must have taken hours,” said Dean.
“I do not know any other way to track alp demons. Once they have tainted someone, they tend to return to the same victim until grow bored,” Castiel replied. “Finding the victim is the only method I know of. There was no rhyme or reason to the last three deaths that I could see.” That had frustrated him immensely. He’d spent a long time trying to divine how the alp demon was picking victims, but had come up with nothing. Worse still, he needed to sleep and eat himself to have the strength to fight one, so he could only afford a few hours a night to his search. It made for a slow, inefficient search at best.
The Impala made it a great deal faster. With Dean in the driver’s seat, Castiel was able to lean back against the seat, close his eyes and cast his senses wide. Before, each of the dreaming minds he encountered held a certain temptation, particularly the ones having nightmares. He wanted to get closer, into physical contact with the sleeper, so that he could have a taste. But now that he had sampled Dean’s nightmares, everything else seemed to pale in comparison. He didn’t know what he would do when the alp demon was dead and Sam and Dean decided to move on.
Just like the last three times he’d thought about it, his stomach turned uncomfortably. Castiel forcibly turned his mind away and concentrated on skimming the minds closest to him. They drove around for at least three hours, a sleek, dark car gliding up and down the streets, in silence with no luck. The sun was just cresting the horizon, bringing their time to an end, when Castiel felt it. The sour, moldy hint of a nightmare tainted by an alp demon. He gagged and sneezed several times in rapid succession.
“Cas?” Dean said, stopping the car right in the middle of the road. Fortunately it was early enough that there were no other drivers.
“I’m fine,” he rasped, fighting against the instinctive urge to retreat from the disgusting sensation. It was overwhelming, clogging his nose, mouth and eyes. He blinked rapidly, trying to hold the tears at bay.
“You don’t look fine,” said Sam. Both brothers were twisted around, staring at him.
“It’s unpleasant,” Castiel said, swallowing hard. He fumbled a hand free of his trench coat, reaching automatically for Dean before remembering that was a privilege he did not have anymore. Astonishingly, Dean never hesitated and actually took his hand. The feel of those warm, sturdy fingers was enough to push back the worst of it, like standing under an umbrella in the middle of a rainstorm. He breathed a little easier, wanting to fill his senses with Dean instead, but refrained.
He closed his eyes again and followed the source of the taint. “Keep driving, Dean.”
There was a noticeable pause from the front seat, and then Sam said, “You know what, I’ll drive. Cas, just tell me when to stop.”
The pleasant, grounding pressure of Dean’s hand vanished as the car door opened. Castiel swayed, feeling increasingly ill – this was a powerful alp demon. Then there was the feeling of fresh air against his face and Dean was shoving him over, sliding in beside him. Sam took the car out of park and slowly inched forward. Dean was looking at him, Castiel could tell, and then a rough arm was slung around his shoulders and he was being pulled into the warmth of Dean’s body.
“S’it always this bad?” Dean muttered into his hair.
“Yes,” Castiel admitted reluctantly. “Alp demon induced nightmares are toxic for my kind if we are exposed for long enough. And… it is overwhelming.”
“But this is how you hunt them?”
“There is no other way,” Castiel repeated.
“Why don’t you just tell a hunter and let them take care of it?”
Castiel opened one eye just long enough to give a pointed glare. “And if all hunters greeted me the same way you did?”
“I thought you were an alp demon,” Dean said defensively.
“I know. I… apologize, Dean. I shouldn’t have fed from your nightmares.”
“Were they…” Dean paused. He cleared his throat. “Were they really that good? You weren’t just saying that?”
“Think of the best cheeseburger you’ve ever had,” Castiel said, maybe a little dreamily. He’d noticed Dean’s love of cheeseburgers at the bar when they met. “Big and juicy, loaded with bacon, cheese, onion rings, pickles, with a huge side of crispy curly fries on the side.”
Dean’s eyes were a little wide. “Cas…”
“I hate to interrupt,” Sam said, looking in the rear view mirror. Dean jumped and pulled back a little, and it was only then that Castiel noticed how close they had drifted. “But are we anywhere near the right place?”
“Oh, my apologies, Sam.” Castiel faced forward, taking a deep breath. Even if he couldn’t focus on Dean, just having him near as a reminder made it easier. “Nearly, I think. It feels… different from anything I’ve experienced before. More sinister. We need to be careful – there!”
Sam slammed on the brakes, bringing the Impala to another screeching stop in the middle of the road. Behind them, a horn blared. Sam quickly guided the car over to the side of the road, tossing an apologetic wave at the pissed off driver who’d been behind them. Then all three of them turned to look at the apartment building.
“You sure?” Sam asked.
“Positive.”
“Let’s go, then,” Dean said, shoving the door open. He got out and Castiel followed, though the pavement dipped beneath his foot. He would’ve stumbled had it not been for the warm weight of Dean’s palm against his lower back, keeping him steady.
They walked into the apartment building through the front door, which had been propped open by someone else. There was no elevator. Castiel felt more disoriented as he climbed the stairs. He did his best to hide it. He’d never been this affected by an alp demon, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. By the time he’d pinpointed the right apartment – third floor, fifth door down – his head was pounding and the room was blurry.
It was Sam who picked the lock, allowing them to enter the apartment silently. He performed a quick sweep of the living room and kitchen and then jerked his head at Dean. Sam went down the hall first, followed by Dean and Castiel. There was only one bedroom, and the second they entered Castiel’s knees gave out. He hit the ground hard and heard a faint, familiar hissing noise: a pantomime of laughter. It took effort to lift his head long enough to see the alp demon.
“Hey Clarence,” she purred, rising from the bed. The young human woman she’d been feeding off of whimpered and stirred restlessly, caught in what was no doubt a horrifying nightmare.
“Meg,” Castiel whispered.
“Long time, no see. I wondered if I’d ever catch up with you again.”
“Wait, you know each other?” Dean demanded.
Meg laughed. “Oh yeah, Clarence and I go way back,” she said with a smirk. “We’re old friends.”
“We are not friends,” Castiel said through gritted teeth.
“Now that just hurts my feelings!” Meg said, raising her eyebrows and twining a dark curl around her finger.
“You killed my sister,” Castiel snapped, feeling the burn of old loss.
“She got in my way,” Meg said simply. “Besides, it was your fault for trusting me in the first. And anyway, you hate your family. What did it matter if that got you cast out?” She gave him a mean little smile. “It’s too bad I can’t feed off your nightmares, sweet cheeks. I bet after that, you tasted delightful.”
Castiel flinched, and that was apparently enough for Dean. With a roar, he threw himself at Meg. She met him, grabbing his arm with inhuman stronger and pivoting to throw him against the wall. Then she spun to meet Sam, never once losing the smile that had haunted Castiel for months. He could still remember the day he’d brought her to his pack, foolishly thinking that she was different, that she was the one alp demon out of them all that wanted to learn how to feed in a different way.
Stupid on his part. It turned out that Meg’s real objective was murder. Why she hadn’t just killed Castiel and been done with it, he wasn’t sure. Maybe she just liked the thought that he’d had to live with Anna’s death all these years, knowing that it was his fault for trusting too easy. Whatever the reason, it explained why she was able to affect him so strongly now: he had no immunity against Meg. She’d never tainted him, but if it hadn’t been for Anna she probably would have tried.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t stop her from hurting anyone else.
It was a struggle to get to his feet. Meg was stronger now than she’d ever been, and the taste of her poison was suffocatingly strong. She was still wrestling with Sam, but she knew the instant he approached. She wrenched a surprised Sam forward over her hip, throwing him to the floor, and delivered a neat but forceful punch to Dean’s abdomen that made him double over. Castiel took the opportunity to lunge for her, wrapping his arms around her from behind.
“That’s enough!” he snarled in her ear.
“It’s never enough. That’s the point,” Meg snapped back, sounding breathless. “It really was easy to get you to trust me, you know. You’d think your family would’ve better prepared you. Guess they never really cared about the freak, did they?”
The old taunt stung enough to make him flinch just a little, and Meg took advantage, driving an elbow back into his midsection. His grip eased a fraction, but instead of stepping away she turned in the circle of his arms to face him. Their faces were too close. She whispered, “I was gonna feed you nightmares, Clarence. Slowly, over a period of years, build up your immunity until you were deep in my thrall. Never would’ve wanted for anything. But your damn sister had to stick her nose in. I’m not – fuck!”
The curse emerged as a pained gasp. Castiel froze, staring at the tip of the iron blade that was sticking out of her chest. Meg slowly looked down too, a look of dazed confusion in her eyes. Then she crumbled soundlessly to the floor at his feet. Blood trickled from the wound, forming a growing pool around her body.
“Dumb bitch,” Dean muttered, panting hard as he wiped his blood stained hands on his jeans. “Cas? You okay, man?”
“I’m fine,” Castiel said distantly, barely aware of what he was really saying. He’d never expected to see Meg again, much less fight with her. The taint in the room was already lessening, proving that she really was dead. He felt sick.
“Cas?” Dean stepped over Meg’s body to get to him, and Castiel shuddered and lost control.
“Dean, please don’t freak out.” That was the only thing he had a chance to say before the world twisted and he fell. Or shrank, depending on the point of view; when it was over, short as it was, he was left reeling, disoriented, and looking up at the stunned expression on Dean’s face.
“What the hell?” Dean said, taking a step back. “Cas?” And then far less certainly, “Sammy?”
“God,” Sam muttered as he picked himself up from the floor, gingerly rubbing his nose. He took one look at Castiel and just sighed. “He’s a dream eater, Dean. I told you that they were rumored to have different forms.”
“But he’s a pig!”
Castiel squeaked in offence.
“Tapir, actually, I think,” Sam corrected.
He’d always liked Sam. Castiel clicked approvingly and stretched, trying to get used to the feel of different muscles again. It had been a long time since he’d willingly changed, and longer still since he’d lost control like that. He wasn’t fond of his tapir form. Unlike most of his brethren, he wasn’t intimidating at all. Roughly the size of a large house cat, he was far too small for that. It was something that his pack had teased him mercilessly for, even though it was slowly becoming more common.
He padded over to Dean, pressing his snout to the hunter’s jeans. Dean smelled of sweat and deodorant and coffee. It wasn’t unpleasant. Castiel sat back, looking up at him expectantly, and after a moment’s pause Dean leaned down and picked him up. He was clearly inexperienced with holding mammals, but after a couple of seconds he worked out how to best support the weight of Castiel’s body. Sam just stood there and watched with an increasingly amused smirk.
“I’ll take care of this,” Sam said, nodding to Meg’s body. “You go ahead.”
“You don’t shed, do you?” Dean asked suspiciously. “I don’t want little black hairs all over my baby.”
Castiel shook his head, and fortunately Dean took that as true. Dean carried him back downstairs and over to the Impala. Instead of putting Castiel down on the seat, though, he sat down in the driver’s seat and set Castiel on his lap. He kept his eyes on the door, waiting for Sam, but absently starting scratching Castiel’s head. Right between his ears. It was marvelous.
“Sammy and I are heading for our next hunt,” Dean said after a couple minutes.
Right. They were hunters. Of course they weren’t sticking around. Castiel’s heart sank.
“We think there’s a vamp nest,” Dean went on. “South Carolina. Should be interesting. What, uh, what about you, Cas? Are you hanging around here?”
A little baffled, Castiel shook his head and nudged pointedly at Dean’s hand when it stopped moving. Dean huffed a faint laugh and resumed scratching.
“You don’t have family here?”
Again, Castiel shook his head. He’d just been passing through.
“If you were… you know… headed our way, we could give you a drive.”
Oh. That was interesting… and unexpected. Intrigued, Castiel cocked his head up at Dean, amazed to see that Dean was blushing faintly. He voiced a questioning whistle, wishing that he could better communicate in this form. Fortunately, Dean seemed to understand.
“The whole dream eater thing? I dunno. It’s not – I mean – I’m not psyched about it. It’s kinda weird, and I’m not sure I like the thought of you seeing my nightmares… but…” Dean shrugged, looking embarrassed, and finally managed to spit out, “I slept better with you around than I have in years, okay? You’re better than alcohol, man, and you don’t leave me with a hangover the next morning.”
It wasn’t the best compliment Castiel had ever received, but coming from Dean that was high praise indeed. He wiggled around until he could brace his front legs against Dean’s chest and lick him on the cheek. Dean sputtered in surprise and Castiel smirked, doing it a second time.
Right as he did, Sam opened the Impala door. “Uh, am I interrupting something?”
“No! And dude, you’re not getting in here looking like that!”
Sam rolled his eyes and sat down anyway. His shirt was covered in blood from disposing of the body. “Shut up, Dean. I’ll change while you’re driving. Let’s go, okay? Before someone sees us. We need to check out. Cas, you’ll have to show us where you keep your key so I can check out for you, too.”
Dean faltered. “How – uh – what makes you think –”
It turned out that Dean was right. Sam did have a pretty impressive bitch face. “He’s sitting on your lap, Dean.”
“Right. That’s – right.” Apparently deciding it was better not to say anything, Dean started the car. Castiel curled up as unobtrusively in his lap as possible, for once not minding his small form so much, pleased when Dean didn’t try to move him. He could get used to this.