Work Text:
It was a hot summer day when Castiel heard the question again. It was a question his son Jack had kept asking over the years. Castiel had given one answer but it hadn't been the right answer and although the answer had changed over the years it hadn't been anywhere near the actual truth.
“Come on, Dad, tell me. I'm a teenager now and I know the story you keep telling me isn't all of it.”
Dean laughed as he closed the door to the fridge. “It's not the truth at all, kiddo.”
Castiel glared at Dean. “I don't know. It's not a very interesting story, Jack. Mundane I'd say.”
Opening the bottle of beer, Dean joined Cas and Jack in the living room. “Oh, but it is an interesting story, Jack.” Dean's eyes practically sparkled with mischief.
Jack was all attention now. He'd even forgotten about his PlayStation game. “So it's time?”
Dean nodded, a grin on his face. “It's time.” The old house cat slowly walked over to the couch and mewed once. She was used to being obeyed. “Come here, you raggedy old bastard.”
The orange tabby, mewed again as if the mere notion of being called a bastard was a personal affront to her. Dean put her down on the couch. She sniffed once and then promptly went and sat on Dean's thighs.
Dean started petting her absentmindedly as he turned his attention to Jack. “So you know your dad and me both like to play games, console, and tabletop?”
“Yes, of course.”
“It all started as a normal work day.” Dean shrugged. “As normal as it gets when you're in the SWAT team.”
Dean had already been briefed so when they arrived on site – a nice house in a suburbian area, (of course it was fucking suburbia) he knew of the details. A disturbance in the neighborhood. Loud voices. Threats of murder, a bombing, a possible kidnapping, and what several neighbors had reported as suspicious activity.
“So no contact with the suspect?” Dean asked the supervisor. This wasn't the usual scene but Dean had learned that evil came in all shapes and forms and was everywhere. Especially in normal suburbia. But events like these showed him, and everyone else how thin that veneer of normalcy really was. Glancing at the cars, Dean almost spat on the ground. Prius on every driveway. That was not fucking normal.
The supervisor shook his head. “No. We've tried to hail him several times. If he makes another move, take him down.”
Dean nodded. “Gotcha. Where's the perimeter?” His supervisor, Cain, pointed ahead of Dean. The house looked almost identical to the other houses, except it was surrounded by greenery. Trees, bushes, flowers, and greens. Guy seemed to have a green thumb. “Alright. We not going eagle?”
“We have Dan up there.”
Dean sniffed. Dan. Couldn't find his fucking shoelace if he so chewed on it. He had no idea how he'd ended up on the SWAT team. “Good for Dan.” Dean adjusted his gloves, tapped his helmet once and nodded. “I'm good to go.”
The grass provided no real shelter, short as it was but on his right side the bushes grew tall and overlapping; the vegetation did a good job of camouflaging him. He knew the suspect, Castiel, hadn't been notified of his presence yet. Over the com, he'd learned that he'd refused all attempts to hail him.
He had some kind of headset on and was walking back and forth in the living room. Dean couldn't discern any weapons in his hands so far but he didn't take his chances. There had been reports. “You got a visual?” he asked Dan.
The answer didn't surprise him. “Negative.”
“I have a clear view.” Dean adjusted the scope infinitesimally and exhaled softly. “Just give me the call.”
“Not yet. We're still waiting,” Cain replied.
Dean relaxed his shoulders. He was waiting too.
As Dean sat there, waiting for the call to shot Castiel or not, he felt a light tip tap on his shoulders. His body went rigid and he willed it to relax. His eyes remained on the target.
The distant sound of a purr reached his ear. A fucking cat. Dean moved slightly but the cat just distributed its weight accordingly and stayed. “Fuck off, fucker,” Dean hissed. The cat meowed and jumped down. Right in front of Dean. With a gloved hand, Dean swiped at the cat. It jumped right back onto Dean's back and dug its claws in.
Dean gritted his teeth but ignored the menace. “Commander Cain?”
“Hold.”
Dean held his ground. Why didn't the idiot answer his goddamn phone? Maybe he wasn't interested in money or a getaway car? Maybe his kink was getting gunned down on a beautiful Thursday morning. Maybe. Dean had seen weirder. Some people roamed the world only to set it ablaze or burn themselves.
Dean followed Castiel with his eyes. Unruly black hair. A white T-shirt and sweatpants. He was good-looking for being a nut job.
Suddenly, Castiel froze. Dean's hand hovered over the trigger.
Castiel vanished.
Goddammit. “Visual, Dan?” There was a bit of static until Dan answered.
“Negative. I lost him.”
The door opened and Castiel dove on the ground. “Commander?”
“Hold.”
Dean exhaled through his nose. The goddamn cat moved closer to his neck and lay down. He could feel it relax against his shoulder and even though the heat of its tiny body didn't reach down through his vest, he felt the slight difference in weight. Dean moved slightly, adjusting his position, so it was perfect if he had to fire.
Castiel was crawling on the ground, more like a weird hunchback than a stealthy shadow. He peered out from some rhododendron bushes and whispered something.
Dean arched an eyebrow. What the fuck was going on?”
“I need to move to get a clear shot,” he heard Dan say over the comm. Where the fuck had he placed himself? Dean wondered.
Castiel made a motion with his hand and Dean almost shot the fucker.
“Bastard!”
Narrowing his eyes, Dean kept his gaze locked on Castiel. “I have visual. Clear shot. Orders?”
“Stay down. We have an officer on his way with a megaphone.”
There was a look of desperation and fear on Castiel's face. “Bastard!” he hissed.
“Well, fuck you too,” Dean whispered. The cat leaped down from Dean's shoulder and curled up near his bicep instead.
Castiel made a motion with his hand again. What the fuck did he want? And where was that megaphone? Dean didn't see anyone else in the house, no other movements but that didn't mean shit. People could be tied down, incapacitated or dead.
“Dan, where you at?”
“Soon at the other house. Not a clear visual yet.”
Jesus fucking Christ. He had to have bribed someone to be able to have graduated, Dean thought.
Castiel was inching closer to Dean. He was soon out on the street. Dean's gaze went over him again but he couldn't see any weapons on him. “Bastard,” Castiel hissed again.
Did this Castiel have a death wish, Dean wondered. He spoke into his comm. “He's really close now.” He was. Dean could leap up, run up to him in two seconds and knock him down. “Can I take him down?”
“Down, not out?” Cain asked.
“He is inching closer to me... I don't see any weapons on him.” Dean replied. “So yeah, down.” The cat was still near his arm. It had turned on its back now, and rolled back and forth in the grass, happy as a clam. Cats, man. Fucking weird animals.
“Bastard!” Castiel hissed again.
“Down on your call.”
Dean sighed and relaxed his finger. Slowly, he put his rifle down and pushed it away from his body.
Castiel kept crawling to him, like a moth to a flame. He was so close now that Dean could see the actual color of his eyes. Blue as the ocean on a sunny day. Well, the day was sunny but they weren't anywhere near an ocean.
“I'm just here to get Mu –“
Dean didn't wait for the rest. He leaped up like a fucking jaguar and was on Castiel in a second. He grabbed Castiel's right wrist at the same time as he shoved a knee into his stomach. Dean got rewarded with a grunted cough and straddled Castiel's waist. Pushing down with his leg on Castiel's other arm, Dean already had the gun in his hand, aiming it at Castiel's chest. “Don't fucking move.”
“Please,” Castiel whispered, “I'm only here to get Mustard.”
“Mustard?”
“My cat,” Castiel said.
Dean shifted his weight and looked into Castiel's eyes. “Not bastard?”
Castiel dared a small smile. “She can be at times.”
He was more than beautiful up close, Dean thought. Eyes to drown in, but not to die for. Dean kept aiming his gun at Castiel as he let go of his arm. “Don't fucking move.” Briskly, Dean moved over Castiel's body, feeling for any weapons or guns. Nothing.
“Am I free to go?”
Dean shook his head. “No. You realize you were fucking minutes, seconds, from being shot down?”
Castiel paled at that. “No... why?”
“Neighbors called in. Heard you scream you were gonna kill some people. Said you shouted that they were your hostages.”
Confusion gave a way to understanding. “Oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
“Oh no. I was translating.”
Dean clicked his tongue and pressed the muzzle into Castiel's shoulder. “Translating? Ima ease off you. No sudden movements or you're dead. Get it?”
Castiel nodded.
Dean got up and allowed Castiel to rise too. He still had his gun pointed at him. “Turn around.”
“Yes, OK. Translating yes. Helping a friend translate from Japanese to English. He's writing a horror book.”
Dean handcuffed Castiel, then yanked him back around again. His body was flush with Castiel's and he noticed that his eyes widened as he looked at Dean.
Leaning in, Dean whispered in his ear. “So the whole fucking SWAT team is here because you were translating words for a book?” You hot lunatic.
“He has difficulty with the English words.”
“And you were shouting because...?”
Castiel tilted his head. “Sometimes the WiFi connection goes bad.”
“And you didn't pick up your goddamn phone because?”
“It was charging,” Castiel said, a bit of a challenge in his voice. “And on mute.”
Holy mother of Metallica. Dean leaned back and looked Castiel in the eyes. “And why were you on a suicide mission right now, crawling on the goddamn ground and calling me a bastard?” He spat out.
“I noticed the SWAT was out and realized that Mustard was on you and I panicked. I didn't want her to interrupt your job.”
“You were my job!” Dean narrowed his eyes. “Mustard?”
“My cat's name is Mustard. She is friendly.”
The culprit meowed suddenly and pressed her body against Dean's leg.
“See, she likes you,” Castiel said.
“God fucking dammit.” Dean went around Castiel and shoved him in the back, indicating for him to start moving. “Consider yourself lucky that you're charming as hell, Cas. Hot too.”
“Where are we going?” Castiel asked as he moved along.
“You're going into custody. A brief interrogation and then if you're nice you'll be out. I'll put in a good word for you.” Dean thought for a split second before adding, “And then you and I are going on a date.”
Castiel looked confused, and Dean grinned.
Mustard followed them along.