Chapter Text
“Oh my god. Ohmygod, ohmygod, guys. Guys? GUYS!”
Charlie marked her place in the book with a pointed finger and looked away, scanning the bunker frantically like if she moved the passage might disappear. Maybe it would.
Weirder things had happened.
“GUYS!!”
Nothing.
Of freaking course.
They had been working on the dual problems of Dean’s Mark of Cain and the marginally more pressing disintegration of Castiel’s stolen Grace for weeks now. Literally weeks straight. The silent hope that Cas' stolen grace would run out and leave him human had been proven to be futile over the last 2 weeks or so, and it was clear the power was or consuming him whole. Dean had been hovering. Sam refused to sleep until exhaustion forced him to bed. Cas napped everywhere, wrapped in a blanket that looked suspiciously like the comforter from Dean’s bed, when he wasn’t researching with them. The hunter was always somewhere he could keep an eye on the angel, and Charlie was one hundred percent sure Castiel was sleeping in Dean’s room. Sam was either so used to their strange behavior or generally focused and exhausted enough not to notice, but Charlie did. Just getting Dean to go on a grocery run had taken them running out of everything besides powdered creamer and canned tomatoes, and even then he’d insisted Cas call him every half hour. (The hunter had given the hacker a clear ‘shut-up-I’m-not-worried-he’ll-die-while-I’m-gone’ look at her in response to her significant smirk, reminding her to make sure they had a talk about how he was, like, the most obvious person who ever obvioused in Obviousland. Cas had been too focused on the possibility of renewing his access to peanut butter to track the exchange). The three men were constantly within infuriatingly close quarters. She hadn’t read Janeway/Seven slash in eleven days . She knew for a fact that Sam, Dean, and Castiel were all somewhere in the bunker - and now that she had an Incredibly Important Discovery they were, of course, unresponsive.
Fine.
She grabbed several other books and lay them strategically around the passage in question so there was NO possibility of the book closing or a gust of wind making her lose her page or a pigeon flying in and stealing it. (What, it was The Bunker, okay? Weirder. Things.) The redhead nabbed her laptop and popped the headphones out, cued up a song, plugged in the AUX cord she and Sam had insisted Dean add to the sound system, and flipped all the speakers on.
“Welp, this will either get their attention or they’re dead,” she muttered to herself, and pressed play while cranking up the volume.
“ SHOUT TA ALL MY LOST BOYS,
SHASHASHASHASHASHASHASHASHOUT TO ALL MY LOST BOYS,
WE ROUDY”
Skrillex started pounding through the speakers.
It took fifty-three seconds, according to the player on the laptop, for Dean to come stomping around the corner, Castiel in tow.
“Charlie, what the Hell! I can take the damn speakers down if you’re gonna-”
She stopped the music with a cheeky grin.
“Thank you,” the hunter replied archly.
Dean was barefoot; Cas without his jacket, although the blanket was still wrapped around his shoulders like a kind of cloak. They had obviously been in the bed, probably sleeping. Or just… being together. Charlie felt a little bit bad about interrupting them, but she hoped what she’d found would give them a little more time together in the long run.
Dean had been sort of soaking up the angel since the morning Castiel had informed them that Hannah had returned to Heaven permanently and he, well, hadn’t. Wouldn’t. He’d stumbled, stuttered, and had looked to Dean before taking a steeling breath and starting hesitantly, “I’ve been informed I’m still, uh, a valuable member of the team even without my, my Grace, I guess..”
Dean had made a show of scoffing at the angel’s hesitance and making sure everyone knew it was fine, it was great , that Cas was staying and of course he was useful and his fading grace would be solved in no time, but it didn’t matter because he was family . Sam had smiled and slapped Cas on the back before returning his attention to his toast, a “glad you’re staying, man” brightening Castiel’s face immediately. Charlie had given the angel a quick hug as she’d gotten up from her chair, a “glad you’re sticking around, Bestie!” leaving Cas with a toothy grin as she set her dishes in the sink. Dean had leaned into the angel’s space from his seat with a genuine smile and muttered something that sounded like “I told you” as she walked away. When she turned from the sink, movement had caught her eye. The hunter’s hand lightly pinching the sleeve of Castiel’s trenchcoat where it hung below the surface of the table would have been unremarkable if he had let go, but Charlie discreetly watched him continue to gently worry the material between his thumb and pointer until she had to walk back to her chair and could no longer see his hand. Considering he drank his coffee one-handed while they strategized their plan of attack for the problems on the horizon, she assumed he kept a hold until they broke to begin their respective tasks.
In the weeks since that morning, she’d noted but not mentioned the tells Dean had developed. A small swing of his hand to brush that ubiquitous coat as the two passed one another, letting Cas lean against him to sleep at the table, the sad, small smiles she caught him giving the angel when Cas wasn’t looking - like he was memorizing the moment. The subtle, eyes-closed breath he’d take when he got close enough. The way his voice got just a little softer when he asked the angel to do something. She’d found them two days ago passed out on the couch first thing in the morning, Netflix asking if they were still watching “Chopped.” Castiel was nested in his blanket with his head pillowed on Dean’s lap. One of Dean’s hands was threaded in the angel’s hair, the fingers of his other hand entwined with Castiel’s own. It was sweet and then marginally upsetting when Charlie realized Dean was positioned as though he needed to anchor Castiel to him solidly to keep him from disappearing, even while the hunter slept. (She’d let them sleep, but “accidentally” dropped a stack of books very loudly on the tile floor when Sam woke up and started asking after his brother.)
Well, if this spell meant what she thought it could, Dean wouldn’t have to worry about losing Cas any time soon. If she could convince them, that is…
Dean sighed. “So what did you decide to blast weird demon-spawning music out of my poor speakers for? You know those things were made in like the seventies - they can’t take too much crap like that.”
Charlie waved him off and plopped herself excitedly in front of the book she’d been working from. “Shush, shush, shush, you - Look! Look, look, look! I think… now, I don’t want to be counting any unhatched chickens or anything but… I think I may have just become the Greatest Researcher In The World.” She pointed, tapping manically at the page and moving the books she’d piled on to save her place. Dean pulled out a chair and Cas sat automatically, the hunter standing over his shoulder. Both men leaned in to investigate.
“Yeah, okay. Maybe… what’d you figure out? Mark or Grace?”
“Uh, actually… possibly… both?” She ventured hesitantly, peering at the passage intently with them. Suddenly Dean was much more interested and leaned in so his face was far too close to both Castiel’s and Charlie’s for comfort.
“Jesus, I hate Old English,” the hunter muttered to himself, then stood abruptly. “Charlie, this is a binding spell. How is this supposed to help us?”
Charlie rolled her eyes. “Well, if you kept reading you’d see that it’s a binding spell for angels . It’s theoretical, cobbled together from a couple different accounts of high level priests back in the not-so-pious Dark Ages who wanted to harness the knowledge angels possessed, but it could bind him to earth! Sever the reliance on heaven completely!” Uh oh. Charlie knew that stance. And now Dean’s arms were crossing, frown in t-minus three, two…
“I don’t like it. We don’t need to add to the crap Cas is dealing with right now, and completely cut off from heaven? That’s kind of a big step, don’t you think? Who…,” Dean scowled. “Who says the guy wants to stay down here for the forseeable future anyway?”
“I do,” came the slightly distracted-sounding response from the man sitting next to Charlie.
“Wait, what?” The hunter sagged a little and just looked baffled.
Cas huffed through his nose and continued to study the pages Charlie had been talking about. “Really, Dean, I thought I’d made myself clear. Particularly since we discussed my staying here at the Bunker. I assume circumstances have not changed so much that you have changed your opinion on that?” He turned and looked expectantly at the hunter.
Dean’s eyes flicked to Charlie self-consciously before he answered. “Well, no. No! Of course not. But, but… totally severed from the Host? Isn’t that kinda…”
“It isn’t… ideal,” Cas sighed. “But, given the choice, I would rather cut ties completely than cease to exist. Particularly now.”
Dean stared at the floor. “Yeah, yeah, for sure. With the Mark and everything, it’s probably not the best time-”
“Dean.” The look Cas gave Dean couldn’t have said “You know that’s not what I mean” more if he had stood on the table and shouted it. Dean ventured a moment of eye contact before studying his toes. He tried to stop a smile by biting his lip but blushed anyway.
Charlie couldn’t take it anymore. “Ugh! Oh my god, you guys! I am Right. Here. You!” She glared accusingly at Dean, who looked equal parts annoyed and confused by her interruption of their moment. “You are So Obvious! He adores you. You adore him. You’ve both done crazy-pants things for each other. Would you please just believe that he wants to stay as much as you want him to? Please? Because it will make my job so much easier.”
Dean sulked for a moment. “I-I-I am not so obvious ,” he sputtered as Sam walked in.
“What’s not obvious?” He asked, pulling up a chair opposite Cas and Charlie.
Dean was not prepared for that question from his brother. “Charlie says, she says. Hah! And I...! But…but...Pfft.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “And besides that-” He couldn’t decide what to do with his hands, arms attempting to cross while he gestured between Castiel and himself.
Sam looked at Charlie with his eyebrows raised. “Is this about the sex thing?”
“WHAT?!” Dean was even less prepared for that question. Sam laughed a little.
“Yeah, dude. You’ve been all super calm - not in that creepy way, but like actually calm - and stuff with Cas lately.” He shrugged. “I mean, you told me Collette was a calming influence on the Mark for Cain, right? I thought that was what was happening. I figured you two finally banged out all your weird issues and slept together… no pun intended.” He looked at the three faces staring at him - one aghast, one bemused, and one trying very hard not to laugh. “Ammmmm I wrong?” He added cautiously.
“Yes!” Dean replied emphatically while, at the same time, a contemplative “No” resounded from the angel.
“Cas!”
“What?”
Dean closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Cas, we have not slept together.”
“Dean, we sleep together every night.”
“Yes, Cas, that’s sleeping. Not sleeping together .”
“Ah.” Castiel considered this seriously. “The euphemism for sex.”
“Yes, Cas, the euphemism for sex. Which we have not had.”
Cas frowned. “But Charlie’s podcast says that, any time you orgasm with a partner, it can be considered sex.”
Dean bent over and buried his face in the back of Castiel’s shoulder, making a funny little laugh-cry noise into his blanket.
Charlie thought it a good idea to intervene. “Aww, Feathers! You’ve been listening to Savage Love? That’s awesome! Oh my god, I don’t know what I would have done without his column when I was first test-driving this whole lesbian thing.”
Sam cleared his throat and put his hands flat on the table, drumming his fingers. “Moving on. I’m guessing the weird music summons was not to discuss-” he waved his hand in the general direction of his brother “- this. So what’s up? Find something? Grace or Mark?” Even though she could see the purple bags under his eyes, Sam looked so optimistic Charlie couldn’t help regain her previous enthusiasm. She ignored the weird exchange happening next to her, with Dean essentially hiding in Castiel’s shoulder and the angel attempting to placate the human with a hand scritching the hair behind his ear.
“Well! Okay, so I found this spell. It’s a binding spell for angels, essentially it takes a part of their grace and molds it into a human soul. Now the idea was originally to use that extra grace for various… purposes. Plus the angel was pretty much human and bound to the person who performed the spell, so they could basically be tortured into giving up divine secrets. ” Sam made a face, which Charlie mimicked. “Hey, I’m not saying it was all that altruistic originally, but I figured - well, we’re not exactly dealing with a whole lot of extra grace anyway, are we Feathers?” Cas blinked and nodded reluctantly. “And it’s not like we’re gonna suddenly go all Resevoir Dogs on him once he’s de-mojoed. He’s family.” Sam still looked unconvinced.
“Wait, so we’d be making Cas… human?” He looked at the angel uncertainly. “On purpose?”
Castiel nodded resolutely. “It appears to be the best option available. Reshaping what is left of my grace into a human soul would be difficult, yes, but it would be a permanent solution to an enduring problem. I would likely live an average human lifetime and begin aging from approximately the age of my bod-er-vessel. It’s not a fate I consider… distasteful in any capacity. My previous experience as a human wasn’t terrible so much as uncomfortable and unexpected.” He smirked to himself and chuckled. “It does have the bonus of allowing me to attone for my indiscretions with a human soul, and theoretically be allowed back into heaven despite any protests of my former brothers and sisters. I would very much like to -” He caught himself and his eyes darted sideways, to the head still buried in his shoulder. “It’s nice to have options that don’t involve eminent nothingness.”
Charlie bounced up and down in her seat. “But Sam, Dean, guys we haven’t even gotten to the best part! We can fix Dean too! At least… I think we can.” This got Dean’s attention again and he raised his head abruptly from Cas’ shoulder.
“Wait, what?” The dark skepticism in his face was painful, and Charlie would have missed the faint glimmer of hope if she wasn’t so close.
“I think,” the hacker started cautiously, “that we might be able to use the extra grace Cas has got burning him up and burn out the mark instead.”
Dean shook his head. “What? That doesn’t make any-”
“Okay, just hear me out.” She pointed to different passages she’d translated as she spoke. “So the ritual was originally meant to make angels human and bind them to Earth but that wasn’t the endgame. The endgame was using the extra grace for some purpose - making a dude a sorcerer or let a pope perform miracles or whatever. So the ritual takes a human and they sacrifice part of their ‘god within’ - I’m assuming soul - as a template for the captured angel’s human soul. Then the extra grace attaches to that empty space and Boom! You’re the energizer bunny. I mean, best case scenario, the grace and the mark metaphorically and literally repel one another and burn each other out, worst case scenario it doesn’t work and you’re stuck with some grace-mojo to use somehow but either way we’ll have solved the whole Cas-Grace problem!”
Dean was nodding. “Well, no, I mean… Worst case scenario I explode. But, y’know. I’d probably smoke out before that happens.” Sam twitched at the reminder that his brother would demon out if he died again. “So who does Cas model his soul after? You?”
Charlie laughed. “Oh, no way. You, Dean. Obviously.”
Dean stiffened and his face went stony. “No.”
The redhead tilted her head, confused. It was very Cas-like. “Whatdaya mean ‘no,’ you doof? The person who performs the ritual is bound to the angel when they’re human.” She looked between the two of them significantly. “I mean… don’t kill me for stating the obvious, but it’s not like we’d be causing a huge shift in personal dynamics here.”
“No, Charlie.”
“But Dean, Charlie’s right,” Sam reasoned. “You’ve still got a little of Cas’ original grace from when he put you back together. He could get it back and use The Righteous Man’s soul as a template for his own! Not too shabby.” Sam sing-songed, trying to get through to his brother.
“I said no, Sam,” he said with finality. “Find someone else.”
“But Dean-”
“NO Sam!” He slammed his hand on the table in emphasis, tipping over a stack of books and making all them startle. The hunter backed away from the table and took a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes, and letting it back out through his mouth. His right fist clenched and released, clenched and released. “I’m gonna go… out.”
“Dean…”
The hunter ignored his brother.
“I’ll be back.” He made eye contact with Cas. “Cas… uh…” Charlie felt a little uncomfortable with the vulnerability she saw just then, but Cas simply nodded.
“I’ll stay.”
Dean nodded, though it looked more like he was reassuring himself than agreeing with Castiel. He hustled out of the room and towards his bedroom. Sam moved to get up.
“He needs shoes and a jacket. I’m gonna talk to him before he goes running off - this is a huge opportunity! I can’t believe he’s abandoning you like this, it’s not-”
“Sam, sit.”
“Cas, it’s not fair. He’s being ridiculous . He just needs to get over himself and-”
“SAM.”
Charlie had never heard Cas go all Angel-Voice-of-Authority before. Sam sat back down like a marionette whose strings had been cut. “I know,” he sighed. “I know...”
The three of them sat in silence until Dean’s footfalls, this time heavier with the addition of boots, receded and the bunker door slammed. Castiel snugged the blanket closer around his shoulders and sunk into the chair. “I will speak with him when he comes back. You two should get some rest and then begin preparing for the ritual. I fear it will need to be done sooner rather than later, whether or not we are able to enlist your brother’s help.” He shivered slightly, something he hadn’t allowed himself to do with Dean in the room. Sam got up first.
“Okay, well, I’m going to try to get some sleep and then work on setting up a space. Charlie? Can you start in on ingredients?” He tried to sound positive, but after Dean’s unenthusiastic reception to the best plan they had so far, exhaustion had worked its way into the taller brother’s entire demeanor. Charlie smiled and nodded, her hair bouncing.
“Sure! Ingredient duty. Can do!” She gave him a thumbs-up and shooed him off to bed. She turned to Cas, still hunkered down in his chair, glaring at nothing. She lay a hand on his arm through the layers of blanket and cloth. “I’ll do it, Cas” she volunteered hesitantly. Blue eyes peered at her curiously. “I- I know it’s not the same. And it wouldn’t be easy. I’m not sure how well it’ll work if you don’t have any of your original grace left to form a soul… but I’ll do it.”
Cas smiled a small, fragile smile. “I believe I can convince Dean he’s not as corrupt as he thinks he is… but I’ve been wrong before.” He lay a hand over hers on his arm. “Thank you, Charlie. Your offer means a great deal. I don’t believe I would risk your soul to create one for myself… but that you would volunteer, knowing the risks - Thank you.” Both of them knew what he meant. Cas wouldn’t take her up on it. Would never endanger someone Dean loved so much for his personal gain - even if it meant ceasing to exist himself. Charlie shook her head sadly.
“You have no idea how much that kid’s world revolves around you, do you?” She asked quietly.
Cas looked puzzled. “Dean is no child. He’s the oldest human here,” he replied.
The redhead smiled. “Get some shuteye, Feathers,” she instructed fondly. “Dean-o’s gonna be a bear when he comes back, I just know it. And you’ve got your work cut out for you, what with the convincing him he’s not pure evil thing.”
The angel gave a long-suffering sigh. “I fear you’re right, Charles. For being a man chosen of god and generally the brightest soul I’ve ever encountered, Dean seems to truly believe he’s fundamentally flawed. Convincing him otherwise is a formidable task.” He smirked at the hacker. “But not one I am unwilling to take on.”
“Well good, cuz he might actually listen to you,” she replied ruefully, sticking a bookmark in the page next to the spell and standing, stretching her hands above her head. The pops coming from her back and neck were slightly worrisome. “C'mon Bestie. Let's go recharge. You wanna fall asleep watching a nature documentary with me? David Attenborough's voice never fails to put me out.”
“There a series about the ocean which appears fascinating,” Cas began with understated enthusiasm. “It's interesting to see which bits you humans have figured out and what you haven't.” He stood, swaying minutely, before Charlie threw an arm around his back and rubbed the guy's arms through the blanket vigorously.
“Sound great! So the Lock Ness Monster. Real or fake?”
Cas gave her a skeptical sideways look was they made their way out of the library. “Charles, there are far more species still living that you humans think are extinct than the pod of plesiosaurs living in Scotland.”
“OhMyGod, screw David Attenborough. Tell me more?”