Chapter Text
“Yes– Yes! ” Dean was on his knees, begging with his eyes toward the sky. “I’ll say yes – just heal him, dammit!”
Castiel felt himself slipping away. This was the end. Dean – saying yes to Michael – it went against everything they had been working for over the last year. The seals, “Team Free Will”, all of it... for him.
Yes– Dean’s voice rang through Castiel’s head, sending a pang of grief through his grace. He floated up, leaving his vessel to bleed out on the ground. But before he knew what was happening, Castiel found himself being sucked right back down to earth.
“What is going–” Castiel muttered to himself as he streaked through the air as a ball of light.
“On?” Dean finished his sentence. Castiel furrowed his brows. “Dean?” Dean’s voice spoke again. “What–”
“The hell did you do?!” Castiel found himself in an open field, being yelled at by Dean. He was in his vessel again, and he wasn’t bleeding out anymore. His grace seemed intact as well.
“I don’t... understand,” Castiel tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at Dean. “Why are you yelling at me?”
“I don’t know, Cas.” Dean was pacing, running one hand through his short hair while the other gripped at nothing. “How about you tell me why – how – you hijacked my body?”
“I didn’t–” Castiel looked down at himself. This was certainly Jimmy Novak. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean.”
Dean groaned in response, pulling at his hair now. Castiel moved to run a hand through his own hair, and found, to his surprise, short bristles where he normally had thick, medium length hair. “Cas,” Dean didn’t meet his eyes. “This goes beyond, like, all of my personal space boundaries.”
“I don’t understand.” Castiel repeated, and he was pacing as well, now. His trench coat swished against the wild grass as he replayed those scant few seconds over and over. “The only way this could have happened would be if...” His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked up and over at Dean, who stood with his arms folded only a few feet away. “If you said yes.”
“To Michael?” Dean rolled his eyes. “Last I checked you weren’t him.”
“You didn’t really want to say yes to Michael,” The words left Castiel as soon as they sprung to his mind, theory slowly taking form as he spoke. “You were trying to save me.”
“S-Save you?!” Dean averted his gaze, face reddening. “I just- I mean, well, You- you know.. Like- You’re an asset. You know?”
Castiel’s mind raced. If Dean had somehow – if Castiel had somehow hi-jacked Michael ’s vessel – it was over. Not only for their chances at stopping the apocalypse, but Castiel had officially ruined any chance he had of returning to Heaven with one little mistake. With one small word.
“An asset.” Castiel repeated idly, praying to an absent Father that Dean couldn’t somehow hear the panicked thoughts racing through his mind – how was he supposed to find God now, anyway? “I suppose that is one way to put it,” he searched Dean’s beet-red face for any sign that Castiel’s concerns had been overheard. All he felt was heat radiating from the other, a sensation he could vaguely register mirrored in his own body. “Dean, your body temperature is very high.”
“Ok, that’s it.” Dean strode past Castiel, refusing to make eye contact. “Out of my body. Now.” Castiel turned to find his charge halfway to a small fishing shack. Had that been behind them the entire time? This must be Dean’s consciousness, Castiel mused, stepping through the door. After just a moment of staring into seemingly endless darkness, Castiel blinked back into reality. The real world hit him like a truck, and for the umpteenth time since taking his first vessel, Castiel cursed humans’ overly sensitive senses.
Jimmy Novak’s body was crumpled on the ground, the iron-tinged stench of blood mixing with the overwhelming sensation of mold tickling his sinuses and itching at the back of his throat. Dean’s throat? Castiel wasn’t about to dwell on the specifics right now.
“That’s morbid.” Castiel and Dean spoke at the same time, though he wasn’t sure if both of them had the same thought or if he had spoken with Dean’s voice. It was unusual, practically unheard of, for an angel – for any supernatural being – to cohabit a vessel. Standard protocol called to lock the vessel in their subconscious for the duration of the... possession. Castiel wasn’t sure the cause, but then again he wasn’t certain he had the heart to lock Dean away regardless. Maybe he really was ‘ going native ’.
“Okay, weird,” Dean’s voice brought Castiel back to the present. “You know I can hear what you’re thinking, Cas?”
“You can?” Castiel spoke, inadvertently taking control of Dean’s voice and hoping the waver of fear didn’t come through. He locked down his own mind even as he spoke his next words, grateful now that he had eons of experience on Dean on the subject of angelic possession. “Then you’ll know that I have no clue how this happened.”
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter,” Dean rolled his neck, sending a spark of odd – but not uncomfortable – feelings up Cas– Dea– their neck. Castiel winced at the pop of joints as Dean tentatively stood from the puddle of muddy water and fresh blood they’d collapsed into.
“What do we have to do to get you back in your body?” Castiel could feel Dean’s legs as though they were his own, and attempting to move one experimentally resulted in them falling against the sheet metal wall of the warehouse with a deafening clang . He hoped that Sam had successfully drawn away the last of their attackers, because if not they were practically sitting ducks like this.
“I... do not–” Castiel drew back, not wanting to cause more trouble as Dean carefully maneuvered to Novak’s bleeding body. “He’s barely breathing,” Castiel felt Novak’s pulse through Dean’s fingertips, watching helplessly as Dean attempted to staunch the bleeding with the tattered remains of the trench coat Castiel had grown so fond of. “I- I don’t think- we can’t–”
“Dean!” Sam burst into the abandoned warehouse, cutting Castiel off. Dean’s head snapped up in the direction of his brother’s voice, and this time crack in their neck was decidedly not pleasant. Sam raced toward them, barely stopping to notice the demon corpses strewn across the floor. “Is that– Cas!?”
“Sam–” Dean tried to address his brother, but Castiel could hear the human’s thoughts racing like a torrent, finally loud enough to break into his subconscious long enough for Castiel to register them. It only took a moment of listening to Dean’s inane plan of pretending like nothing was wrong and lying to his brother... again , for Castiel to follow these plans to their natural conclusion and realize he needed to intercede.
“I’m fine, Sam.” Castiel didn’t want to pull out all the stops, not when he was still uncertain about how many demons they still had on their tail. He made Dean’s eyes flash bright blue for emphasis, and unleashed just enough grace to flicker the lights. Sam was too busy staring into Novak’s pallid face to notice.
“You don’t look fine,” Sam’s voice had always grated on Castiel’s nerves. It was enough to hear the man praying at him day in and day out, but to now have to hear it in person? For Father knows how long? He just barely suppressed a groan at the thought.
“Okay, Cas, shut it.” Dean hissed. Castiel imagined he would look sheepish at being called out, but he didn’t care enough to analyze why. “Cas is fine. You know him. He bounces back.”
“Dean?” Sam finally looked up, casting that calculating gaze at them. Castiel wanted to shrink away, but Dean responded to Sam’s look with one of his own. An inscrutable, indescribable thing that somehow projected carelessness and defensiveness all with just two normal human eyes. “Are you okay?,” Sam’s voice was careful. Castiel realized he was searching Dean’s expression for... something. “You’re acting...”
Castiel focused his energy on manifesting in Dean’s consciousness. He didn’t want to be subject to Sam’s interrogation, and the barrage of the senses was starting to get to him. “Your ideas were flawed,” he spoke aloud, Novak’s voice filling the silence. “You know he would have seen through it sooner rather than later. Lying to Sam seems to always end poorly for you anyway.”
“I’m– my–?!” Dean cut himself off with a frustrated growl. Castiel could feel Sam’s presence through the veil of distance, as though reality were an old television show or radio program he was tuning in to. Vaguely, he registered Sam’s growing unease with Dean’s current behavior.
“How do I do that?” Dean hissed under his breath. Castiel felt a selfish little twinge of pride at successfully stealing Dean’s attention away from his brother. He shoved the sin away as soon as he registered its presence, choosing instead to busy himself by idly pacing about the cabin.
“You’re making your brother uncomfortable,” Castiel deflected easily, brushing dust from his lapels as it gathered there in some sort of infinite loop. He would have to set about cleaning the place, it was clear that Dean didn’t take much care in it.
“Kinda can’t help it,” Dean’s growl echoed through the cabin in sharp clarity to the fuzzy static of the rest of the world. “You try keeping on two conversations at once.”
Castiel hummed, leaning on the windowsill and staring out at the golden field before him. Far beyond the grass, he could just spot a crystalline lake sparkling in the sunset’s golden rays. “I suppose I could help with your explanation,” he spoke slowly, relishing in how Dean hung on his every word even with Sam hovering anxiously over them. “I could pull you back, but I would not advise it at the moment. You will drop me.”
“Please, I can multitask,” Dean muttered. Castiel noted that at some point Sam had taken up a post at the door, though he couldn’t tell if he was defending them or preparing to attack them. A plan – not much further developed than any of Dean’s, but a plan nonetheless, began to work its way through Castiel’s mind.
“Set my vessel down, Dean,” He braced himself for the earful he would get from Dean later about this. Vaguely, he wondered when he’d started to care so much about Dean’s opinion of his actions.
When he heard the thud of Jimmy Novak hitting the floor – a little too hard for his taste – Castiel set his plan into motion. With another burst of power that sent the street lamps flickering, Castiel took full control of Dean’s body, shoving his charge to the subconscious.
Immediately, Dean’s voice filled his mind with a string of swears. So it wasn’t just him, then. Even if Castiel could overcome his moral hang ups in obstructing Dean’s free will, the human continued to surprise him with just how strong of a soul he possessed.
“Dean!” Sam jumped up at the first lamp flicker. The younger Winchester glanced first at Novak’s quickly dying body, then back to Castiel – Dean, in Sam’s mind. Castiel tried to ignore the gun that the human had trained at Dean’s leg. The Colt could kill him and Dean would only have to worry about a broken leg at worst. Smart.
Then again, Sam probably thought he was dealing with some sort of ghost or demon possession, not the friend – did Sam consider them friends? Castiel wasn’t sure – that was bleeding out between them.
“Sam,” Castiel tested. Dean’s voice felt wrong on his lips. “Put down the gun.”
“Who are you and what did you do with my brother?” Sam growled. It was as though a switch were flipped, and the echoes of concern vanished from Sam’s face as he raised the Colt to eye level. An empty threat, Sam wouldn’t shoot to kill, he knew. “And what happened to Castiel?”
Castiel found himself raising his hands in surrender, “I can explain, let me–”
“10 seconds,” Sam advanced on him, kicking a demon’s corpse out of the way. Castiel couldn’t help but notice the way Sam’s eyes flicked to the bloody gash in the demon’s chest.
Castiel rolled his eyes. He could put on another showy display, cause a little chaos like he did when he first met Dean in that barn. Burn Sam’s eyes out like that psychic who tried to look upon his true form. Idly, he hoped that his thoughts were still locked down enough that Dean wouldn’t hear that one.
“ Fine, ” When Castiel spoke again, his voice was enough to rattle the windows. Another small burst of grace shattered the streetlights outside. Sam’s abandoned flashlight flickered, casting Castiel’s shadowed wings onto the wall behind them.
“An angel,” it seemed only to make Sam angrier.
“Wait– Wait, Sam– ” Castiel’s hand grabbed for an angel blade that wouldn’t come. Not that he was going to stab Sam with it, no, just to defend himself – defend Dean, of course.
“Get out of my brother you feathered–”
“It’s me, It’s Castiel,” Castiel had backed himself up almost entirely against the wall. For all his grandstanding earlier, Castiel now felt very small. Even from a few feet away, Sam towered over him. Castiel’s eyes locked on to the faintest smear of red on Sam’s cheek. Surely the human hadn’t been–
“You expect me to believe that?” All softness was gone from Sam’s voice. This was the feared hunter that sent demons scattering at the first scent of blood. Literally. This was Lucifer’s true vessel, and Castiel certainly wasn’t the first angel to note the similarities.
“Give us a moment to figure this out,” Castiel injected a pleading note into his voice. “I seem to be trapped. Locked out of my vessel, that is.”
“Trapped,” Sam repeated, voice laced with doubt. The Colt was still trained at Dean’s shoulder, and Sam’s finger hadn’t once left the trigger. “And how did that happen?” Sam nudged Novak’s face with the toe of his boot. Castiel cringed.
“I would prefer it if you didn’t do that.” Castiel tried to keep the growl from his voice as he stepped forward to save Novak from Sam. He felt like prey under the hunter’s gaze, carefully picking up the rapidly cooling body and retreating without ever breaking eye contact.
Castiel’s fingers traced Novak’s neck. There was a pulse, however slow and faint, but it was enough. Grace flowed from his palm to the massive wound on Novak’s chest, with smaller tendrils racing to heal the shallow scratches and bruises the body had accumulated already in his short absence. Sam watched on, and Castiel found himself sympathizing with the man. THis night had not gone the way any of them had planned, for sure.
“I don’t know what happened, exactly,” Castiel spoke again only once he was sure Novak wasn’t on the brink of death. Another more focused healing session once they were out of harm’s way and they could finally return to normal. “But I do need to discuss things with your brother. If you’ll excuse me,” he wrapped Novak in the bloodied trench coat and set him gently to Dean’ side, leaning both of them against the wall.
“What does that–” Sam’s voice fuzzed out as Castiel focused his mind’s eye on that little fishing cottage and allowed Dean’s eyes to flutter closed.
“He finally shows,” Castiel exited the fishing shack to find himself almost nose-to-nose with Dean, who was practically red in the face with fury. “What the hell was that, man?! Its one thing to copilot my body like a fuckin’ plane, but its another to go full hijacker on my bones, dude.”
“Sorry,” Castiel furrowed his brow at the extended metaphor, “I had to handle your brother.”
“Sam?” Dean seemed to take no notice of their proximity, gaze shifting out of focus as he seemed to consider Castiel’s words. “You left him out there? Alone?”
“Yes,” Castiel shifted. Dean’s breath was hot on his face. It was mildly uncomfortable, but behind him was seemingly their portal back to reality, and Dean was blocking his way forward off the stoop. “He is standing guard.”
“Cas,” Dean pinched his temple. That was his ‘I can’t believe you don’t understand this thing’ voice. “Tell me why you left Sammy out there with an all-you-can-eat buffet of demon blood and no supervision?!” Dean’s voice raised as he spoke, until he was yelling in Castiel’s face.
Castiel winced as drops of spittle hit his face. Imaginary manifestations of grace and soul respectively as they were, he still wasn’t a fan of the implication of the sensation. “You don’t trust him?” he managed, bringing a hand to wipe imaginary droplets from his cheek.
“You’ve never trusted him.” Dean sounded more exasperated than mad, if he had to guess. Then again, he certainly wasn’t the authority on human emotion. “You don’t get to play high and mighty with me in my own body.”
“Apologies.” Castiel finally focused on the large lake in front of them. Dean’s soul. Part of him wanted to see it, but he knew it would be an even further breach of Dean’s privacy than he’d already made. The glitter of its glassy surface was nearly hypnotizing, reflecting the sky like a perfectly crafted mirror. Where had he seen something so pristine before? Had Dean’s soul looked like this when he’d raised the man from perdition? He could have sworn it was a beaten, ratty thing. Shining, pure, of course, but beaten and hurt.
It had been about a year since he’d saved Dean, hadn’t it? Time had always been a fuzzy construct to Castiel, but a lot could happen to a human in a year. He wondered idly what had happened to Dean to fix his soul in such a way – to make it so much better.
The sinful, selfish part of him wanted to prove that it was somehow his doing, that not only had he raised Dean’s soul, he’d healed it as well.
“Cas– Cas! Don’t walk away from me!” Castiel hadn’t noticed that he was walking toward the lake until Dean jolted him out of his stupor. The dock creaked below his feet as he turned to face the human.
“Dean,” Castiel felt a sudden jolt. It was as though he was in a boat being battered by waves. A glance at Dean’s bewildered expression told Castiel that the unusual feeling was mutual. Something was wrong. “I–”
“Dean!” A sharp voice cut through the stiff silence, interrupting Castiel before he could attempt to express his unease. Both of them looked up at the sound. “Dean! Cas! We’ve gotta get out of here, now. ” Castiel could now acutely feel Dean’s body being shaken by the shoulders.
“I’ll handle this.” Dean took off toward the shack, but Castiel was faster. A single beat of his wings put him right in front of the door to Dean’s consciousness. He turned just as he heard Dean’s ragged breaths behind him, glancing over his shoulder.
“I can fly all of us back to your lodgings,” Castiel gave a small shake of his head, placing his hand on the rusted doorknob. “If you’ll let me.”
Dean didn’t respond. His mouth was agape, and he was staring at Castiel – though not quite at him. Castiel couldn’t be bothered to decode that particular expression right now, not with Dean and his vessel – and Sam, he supposed – potentially in danger. With a turn of the doorknob, he took control of Dean’s body once again.
“Sam?” Castiel blinked his eyes – Dean’s eyes – open. “What is the matter?”
“Dean!” Sam holstered the Colt and ran to his side. “You are Dean, right?”
“It’s Castiel.” He glanced around. Dean was fine, Castiel’s grace had long since healed any wounds he’d taken in the battle. But something was still wrong, the knot in his stomach wasn’t going away. Sam wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Castiel finally looked to his side, where he’d laid Novak what felt like only moments before. “Where is my vessel?”
Sam’s gaze trailed to the ground. There was a smear of blood there, and Dean’s words from earlier rushed back to Castiel, clear as if they’d just been spoken. Castiel took the moment to try and find the bloodstain he’d noticed earlier, but Sam looked back up just as quickly.
“There was another ambush,” Sam extended a hand to help Castiel up, “But they didn’t want anything to do with me or y– or Dean. They took your body. Your... uh, vessel.”
“And you let them?!” Castiel didn’t take Sam’s hand, heaving himself up instead. Their body ached from the awkward position he’d left it in, and Castiel wondered exactly how long he and Dean had been talking. “You have that gun, presumably the knife as well,” It was all hitting Castiel at once. He had been so close to fixing this mishap. Of course Sam had to go and mess it up.
“Excuse me for protecting my brother!” Sam’s retort was just as fiery, and Castiel only felt his frustration rise. He and Dean could have handled themselves – awkward vessel situation or not – had push come to shove, but no . Sam just couldn’t quite get his priorities straight.
“It doesn’t matter now,” Castiel’s voice was low, and the look he gave Sam expressed how much it very much did matter. “We need to get out of here before the demons decide they do want you and Dean.”
“Right,” Sam’s voice was tight, like he wanted to argue. Wisely, he seemed to know when to pick his battles – at least some of the time – and allowed Castiel to fly them back to the motel.