Title: More Than Whole
Pairings: Slight Dean/Castiel
Word Count: ~1,200
Spoilers: Dean was in Hell. Gabriel exists.
Summary: When Dean came back from Hell, he was whole. No piece of him had been left behind – nothing was ripped to shreds inside of him. He was totally, completely, overwhelmingly whole. It's just that there's a little bit extra.
Notes/Warnings: Um…There's a moderately Dean/Gabriel vibe but it's not sexual.
Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.
When Dean came back from Hell, he was whole. No piece of him had been left behind – nothing was ripped to shreds inside of him. He was totally, completely, overwhelmingly whole.
It's just that there's a little bit extra. A small, living, breathing part of him that shouldn't be there. It's a part of him that looks at his brother with an overwhelming sense of awe and devotion, and that looks at Castiel with hatred and fear and disgust.
It snarls whenever the Seraph is in the room, purrs when it's just him and Sam. When Sam's strong, and powerful, and fighting, the darkness of Ruby's demon taint swirling like a hypnotic maelstrom inside of him, the thing that is inside of Dean, that serves the darkness in Sam, rolls over and begs for its master, its leader and General.
"I don't know what to do."
His hands are shaking. There are tears in his eyes. He doesn't know who to turn to – doesn't know, because the thing's not letting him. Won't let him seek help.
Castiel knows. Castiel has always known, because he's the one that put Dean back together, that took all the broken, scattered and shredded pieces of Dean's soul and healed him and formed him into the perfection he had been before. He'd seen the presence inside of Dean.
It's the dark, twisted part of him that formed in Hell for him to survive. If you can't seduce the darkness, it seduces you. That's what undercover cops working in drug rings will say when they've gone rogue. Dean's gone rogue, and he carries the scar inside of him.
It's a heavy, overbearing presence in the room, in the Impala, dark and malevolent and evil. It snarls and has claws and flashing black eyes and serrated, wicked teeth behind Dean's face. Sam can sense it even if he doesn't know what it is. Castiel can sense it.
It snarls at Castiel, defiant and angry and when that happens Dean's so terrified that it makes him turn away and long for the blade he'd wielded so easily in Hell, so that maybe he can cut the taint out of himself once and for all, but it won't let him.
"I'm not strong enough to keep it at bay," Castiel says, as he cradles Dean's face in his hands and holds the sorrow of many, many millennia in his eyes. "It is too powerful to fall under my influence."
Tears run down the Hunter's face, and he closes his eyes, tries to fight them back. The presence snarls at Castiel's touch, fights against it because it burns where Castiel's skin is against his, and Dean thinks for a stupid, terrifying moment that maybe Castiel can just burn it out of him. But he can't, because he's not strong enough anymore.
As Sam grows stronger, so does the darkness inside of Dean, willing and eager to serve its general and master.
"You have to help me, Cas," he begs, pleads, grabbing onto clothing and skin, whatever he can dig his fingers into, and Castiel shivers, eyes closing, resting his forehead against Dean's, because he's thinking. He's trying to come up with a solution that means Dean won't be lost to the darkness.
"Will you do whatever it takes?" he whispers, eyes flashing open again.
Dean's eyes are dark – there's a swirling evil in his pupils and it's starting to overtake his eyes. They don't have long before the Righteous Man falls completely. He swallows, and nods, because he doesn't have any other choice.
He's not expecting the Trickster, mostly because he's very abruptly aware that it's not a Trickster. It shines too brightly and hurts his eyes. The presence inside of him growls feral, the black overtakes his entire iris and his body goes on the defensive, cornered animal meeting Alpha Male as Gabriel steps forward.
"You did right bringing me here," he says to the Seraph, who's watching the proceedings solemnly. There's no mirth on the Trickster's face, because this isn't a time for jokes anymore. Dean's essence recoils and snarls again at the sound of the Angel's voice, high-pitched and grating. He bares teeth which are bloody, and his fingers curl into fists, weapons ready to be put to use.
A wave of the Archangel's hand and he's immobilized. The presence snarls again, because Gabriel is powerful, so much more powerful than Castiel. He approaches and Dean recoils, overtaken by the animal inside of him, by the evil, and it hurts when Gabriel touches him, takes his chin in hand, and Dean falls to his knees. The bright light of the Archangel's Grace burns into his skin and it feels like he's being branded, even though Gabriel will leave no mark.
"You serve me, now," Gabriel snarls softly, baring his own teeth in answer, and Dean growls, the darkness fighting against his hold, but Gabriel's far too powerful and if there's anything a demon craves, it's power. Gabriel is much, much more powerful than Sam can ever hope to become. A shift of Gabriel's hand and the snarling turns into a purr, a decadent kind of complacency and contentment, and in the back of his mind Dean shudders with relief that the evil seems to recede inside of him.
A gentle hand pets through his hair, rewarding his submission, and Dean whines again, flashing black eyes up to Gabriel who's watching him with that same kind of stoic resignation. He presses his fingers against Dean's head, splayed out so his pinky and third finger press against the Hunter's neck, and Dean willingly bares his throat, the darkness completely surrendering to something so powerful, despite how Holy and pure that power might be. His eyes slowly start to become green again.
"You will obey," Gabriel whispers, dragging his fingers along the racing line of Dean's pulse, able to sense the darkness' eagerness to please him, and Dean whines and nods, blinking up eyes that are more Hunter than Demon. They shine with relief even though Dean's not quite sure what Gabriel means by 'obey'. Gabriel's other hand comes forward, combs through his hair, and Dean's eyes fall closed. He sags in Gabriel's arms and the Angel kneels to catch him. Castiel is suddenly there too, laying a hand across the mark on Dean's shoulder. "You will obey him."
The darkness flares, righteous and angry at the thought of serving something so much weaker than Gabriel, but Castiel still holds power – it thrums into Dean's skin, feeding the darkness and making it curl up and purr like a contented jungle cat. Another hand goes through his hair and he's not sure which Angel wields it.
"It is done," Gabriel says softly, and Dean wants to say something – anything – or give some sign that he realizes what the Angel has done, wants to thank him for it – but he can't form words. He just clutches at a shirt-clad forearm and makes a low, desperate sound. "I know, Dean-o," the Angel says with a soft kind of watered-down Trickster voice, and Dean can hear the smile in it. "You're okay now." A pause. "He's okay now."
Dean opens his eyes to find Gabriel and Castiel watching each other, before Castiel nods and rests his forehead against Gabriel's briefly, thanking him, and Dean sobs in relief when Gabriel's hand leaves, and the presence inside of him shifts, stirs, but doesn't revolt again. He's safe.
He's not healed, but he's been made dormant. Been made non-threatening.