Original: 2300 words, this one: 5650. I fleshed out more of the heaven stuff in this one, a bit more of Castiel's memory of living in the woods leading up to his cheeseburger capture, Castiel's conversation with Sam, and of course Dean almost raping him. So warnings for questionable consent.
Please review! It makes me happy
Castiel wasn't the only angel anxious about being down on earth, his anxiety was a mix of excitement and wonderment, he loved humanity dearly. People were amazing to him; they were so smart and inventive, climbing their way to the top of the world despite all of their obvious weaknesses. Castiel wanted to get to know one, to become best friends with one and learn more about their world. He'd watched over them from on high, one of the privileged, as he called it. There were other angels that were considered better than himself, stronger, more powerful in every way, far up on the hierarchy of heaven. But they were disconnected, not like Castiel, he got to see the best in humanity every day. He watched the interactions, the peace and fun of their best days, and of course the tears and anger on their lower days. Mankind had had its hiccups in the past but the world he'd seen in the last few decades hadn't been all that bad.
The angels had all descended to earth together, fallen angels let free from their prisons in the third heaven, cupids, cherubim, and all the common rabble angels. Since all of the angels were moving to the same planet they broke everyone up into who would be landing at different sites on earth. It was ridiculous to send millions of angels to occupy one space on the planet; Castiel was one of the higher ups in the garrison's ranks, which put him with the group heading down to North America. While it was a decent position to have, Castiel's level was nothing impressive. It was like being the big fish in a little pond, and even then he didn't feel like that big of a fish. Though it probably didn't matter anymore, their home was falling, crumbling far above them now; they'd have no need for ranks where they were going.
Castiel reassured his more frightened brothers and sisters that they would be okay, he smiled at the small ones and said that after what he'd seen of mankind from his perch in the garrison he was certain they'd be welcomed happily. "There have been some dark spots in man's history but nothing like that has happened in a while." He'd told them, it seemed to help because a few had smiled at him, thanked him for caring. The older angels didn't quite hold the same thought process as Castiel; they didn't consider how terrified the masses were. But maybe it was because they themselves were also scared half to death; Castiel wasn't sure what it was. He didn't think twice about it though, they would be given a home on earth.
He was wrong.
The garrison was much further back in the pack of angels grounded in the United States at the time of the first contact; everyone still had their formations. They kept the weakest angels in the center, the strong ones made for war and known as Power angels were situated on both sides of each group that had descended. Castiel's garrison took up the rear because they were capable of fighting as well, not as strong as the Powers but strong enough for humans. It was set up to make sure they didn't spread heaven's army too thinly, putting Powers all around the group would make each side weaker. Castiel had thought it silly then, to get into such a formation when they were heading to their new home.
He was excited; all the commotion had mostly died down, their wings folded back and everyone had landed in their places. The angels were still as their representatives were speaking with the humans that had come to greet them, world leaders and other types. It had been a long process in the making, their highest archangel Michael had taken teams down with him to prepare humanity for the angels' arrival. He'd gone down several times, over and over to plan out different ideas of what the agreement would be, peace treaties, all of that. Humanity knew the angels would be coming, and it was wonderful that they did, when heaven started to shake the angels all feared they'd lose their home and be sucked down along with it. But with what Michael had been doing and planning they'd all have a place to stay, Castiel couldn't wait to live alongside mankind, his wings fluttered nervously as he tried to peer up over the crowd.
It was impossible to hear what the leader of his group was saying way up at the front, there were thousands of angels present at that particular landing site and Castiel was at the opposite end from the important conversations. That didn't stop him from trying to see though. He was so certain that things were looking better, there'd be a lessened importance put on hierarchy, and he'd get the chance to meet and live like mankind. How could it possibly get worse? Their Father had abandoned them, heaven was a ghost of its former self, but the earth would welcome them, it had to.
There was a sudden rush in the crowd and everything was pushed backward like a wave, knocking several of the unsuspecting down and sending many stumbling. Wings all around started to move, beating the air and flapping harshly. As an outcry roared from the front some of the angels managed to flee but they were packed so close together that many of them could hardly lift off.
It was all happening so fast and Castiel had no idea what was going on, the noise was deafening as angels shrieked, the loud battered sound of wings frantically trying to move drowning out the quieter screams. He managed to keep his balance but that was about all he could do, his brothers and sisters pushed past him as if he weren't even standing there. Castiel thought he'd be knocked over and trampled when a hand gripped his arm, amidst the confusion his head snapped in the direction of the one responsible. Balthazar, Castiel's best friend, had made his way back from the front line. His eyes were wide and terrified, the feeling seeping into Castiel's entire being as they shared the briefest look that could have only lasted a millisecond.
"Run Castiel!" Balthazar screamed at him and it sent a shock through his system. "GO!"
Castiel stumbled backward when Balthazar let go with a shove. He was more confused and fearful than he wanted to ever admit; but he ran. His legs moved faster than his wings could have in that mess of writhing limbs, carrying him further than those that tried to fly. He ran for several minutes through the carnage and mass hysteria, scrambling past others that hadn't been as fortunate as to get a warning. Angels were falling left and right, the humans were attacking and somehow they could take down much stronger beings as easily as a flock of swans.
Castiel came across a clearing where several angels had already fled before he could take off, his wings finally shuddering to life again. It was a mad dash through the sky; all the others that had been able to take flight were unorganized and fumbling into one another. Castiel, in his frenzy, didn't head the same direction as the bigger group, he didn't know where he was going but he had to get out of there. Many others had done the same, the angels scattered.
The next days were darker than he'd ever experienced before; there were sections of his descending team that had gotten out but so many more had been taken captive. Had the same happened to the other landing sites? Were all of his siblings as scared as he was? Castiel couldn't believe the things he'd seen, his brothers and sisters cowering and trying to hide, being dragged out in horror, discovered and taken away. Angels were falling victim to spells and human inventions; over and over Castiel had seen it in his attempts to escape the same fate.
He hadn't seen Balthazar since that moment during the first contact; or any of his other friends for that matter. He hid away with several others, a much smaller group than they'd originally been a part of. It was sad, terrifying and just wrong. They were stuck on Earth now; Heaven was too weak to sustain any of them anymore, if it was even still there at all. Though it still supposedly held the source of their powers Castiel felt as weak as a newborn. Useless and helpless, he had tried to save a few of his brothers and sisters but he'd nearly been caught doing it. And then he'd hide again, like the coward he was.
The siblings that he stayed with were slowly diminishing; one by one they vanished. Rumours and hearsay reached them out in the middle of nowhere; the humans had made a sport of 'training' their new pets. Castiel shuddered abrasively, the understanding of those terms not lost on him. Mankind had enslaved the angels and there was no way to go home. His wings curled around him, shielding him against the cold without much success. Everything had fallen apart, fear was what he lived in day in and day out. It was no longer about possibly rescuing the trapped angels; it was about survival, staying free. But Castiel couldn't help but question what freedom meant anymore. He wanted his father, his brothers and sisters; he wanted everything to go back to normal again. That could never happen but he still had a small hope flickering in his chest.
In the span of five years nearly all of his siblings had been caught, if not by regular humans then by a hideous organization. Crystal Wings is what they were called and they were the ones who fronted most of the raids into the angels' hiding places. There were people who took great joy in torturing angels, making them miserable and destroying them mentally, he guessed that Crystal Wings was mostly made up of those kinds of people. Castiel feared them the most, the ones that did it for fun, masking it in a light of 'learning' and 'knowledge seeking.'
The years went on and he started to see every human in that light, every man that happened through his space made him nervous and almost wild. A wild angel is what they would call him, one that hadn't been domesticated or trained. It made him sick. They pit angels against one another; brother against brother, forcing them to kill as if they were common animals. Trained to be wild, trained to be vicious but docile, forced into a role they never should have fit.
His hope had vanished, his bright outlook had been swallowed up; he flew around the earth secretly, praying every day he wasn't discovered and hunted. He'd done a good job in the last ten years, sticking to unpopulated places, avoiding every sign of humanity when he came across it. Castiel didn't live comfortably or in luxury, he lived like an animal in the trees during hunting season, never knowing what the next day would bring. Never feeling safe.
One day Castiel drifted into one of his favourite clearings, it had been approximately two decades since it'd all happened, since everything fell apart in his hands. He hadn't seen one of his siblings in months; the last one disappeared when he travelled too close to town. It was careless and stupid of him; every now and then angels on earth would feel hunger, their original powers weakened with the falling of heaven. He'd wandered too close, absent-mindedly following his nose. His brother was behind him like a true supporter and follower, maybe even knowing where Castiel was headed but never trying to tell him what to do. And just like that, picked off like all the rest. Castiel had heard something first and ducked away; he watched it all from where he'd managed to hide. An incantation and a collar, that was all it took. There were tools specifically built to hold an angel down and every time he saw them it never got easier. His heart ached and his eyes burned with tears as he flew away, fear was the only thing he knew about mankind. They were all the same. They were monsters.
Castiel sighed heavily and wiped his eyes, he missed the company, the companionship of having even one brother with him. All because what? He couldn't keep himself away from humans just once? He'd yearned for the times back home, back when he could watch Earth from above and wonder what it was like to live like them.
Castiel wanted to viciously fly into that town and level it, but he was too scared. Instead he'd fled to a space that felt familiar, it felt a little bit like home. It was a clearing that he and his other brother liked to sit in and stare up at the sky above them wondering what had happened, what had gone wrong. Castiel looked around at the space he'd be sharing alone now to see the strangest thing; there was a stack of cheeseburgers in the center.
He tilted his head to the side curiously and his stomach made a low growling sound. That was indeed very odd, but he wasn't so sure he was against the idea. It smelled amazing and as he glanced around he saw no one at all. There was a pile of human food just sitting there. He couldn't explain why but he wanted it, the hunger pains might have been a big factor but Castiel's mind wanted it more than the rest of his instinct could deny the logic. Out of all the things he could be doing to feel better he wanted to eat that mound of cheeseburger. It was that weird feeling of familiarity again, where he wanted to feel curious again. He'd always wondered what it was like to live like humanity, that curiosity and thought process brought him back to the garrison, back to his perch in heaven.
Castiel inched closer, unable to decide as he closed in on his possible prey. However it didn't matter after several steps because he'd triggered something. A net curled around him almost instantly, trapping him and locking down his grace, his angelic powers stuck inside him. His heart raced and he immediately let out a distressed cry in his full voice; the ground around him mixing with the sky above and the tree line all forming into one blob of nausea and fear. Castiel's wings stretched and flapped frantically, tangling him further in the enchanted chains. It hurt, it was suffocating and he'd never felt his grace sealed inside like that before. Nothing he did helped, moving more made it worse, screaming only made him want to cry louder, and no amount of attempts would bring out a holy blast of energy to tear the chain apart.
His chest heaved and fell rapidly as he heard the sounds of men approaching, the ground crunching beneath their feet and their voices reaching his ears in a muffled conversation. Castiel whined pathetically and tried again. His arms and legs thrashed desperately but futilely, another long whine escaped him as fear gripped his heart more intensely.'Father help me!'His mind shrieked over and over, his heart pounding hard against his chest and in his ears, his breathing not slowing.'Please father, please!'Still nothing.
He lashed out at the men as they hefted the net onto their vehicle, he had been too terrified and frantic to really register that they'd even started to drag him. Regardless of what he did now it was too late, he was caught. The realization pounded into him, his mouth without words and his heart unable to keep up anymore.
Castiel curled up to the best of his ability, his head down and knees up, tears streaking his cheeks.
He stared, now, from the corner of a young man's room as he slept. Castiel was being punished for lashing out again, he wasn't allowed the warmth of the blanket and still given no clothing. It was the second day of his capture and so far he hated it. He was referred to as a thing, a stray dog dragged into a home it never wanted to be a part of. Well, except for Sam. Sam called him by name, respectfully and caringly.
Dean was his owner's name, Dean Winchester. Castiel was uncertain about him; he couldn't discern the nature of Dean's personality. He wasn't as kind as the younger one but it was already apparent that Sam had little power in the household; Castiel couldn't depend on him for the important things. But he considered going to the young one for warmth, something to cover himself again. The sheet had been taken away for his almost hourly outbursts.
He exhaled lightly and lifted himself from the corner he'd stowed away in, his bare skin brushing against the rough material of the wall, it was agitating and uncomfortable. Castiel stepped quietly and snuck out of the room, closing the door with a silent click. Dean had given him no instructions before bed other than the fact he wasn't allowed to cover up. Castiel knew it was being used as a punishment but Dean eyes were always searching, looking him over and from what Castiel could tell, getting off on it. It was disturbing for him, but at the same time he wasn't sure he understood it. He'd never had someone look at him that way, someone really enjoying the sight of him like that. It made him feel strange, he figured it must be wrong, that weird feeling must be some kind of anger or hatred he wasn't aware of.
Humans went through a time in their lives where hormones raged harder than anything else, it explained Dean's behaviour but Castiel still didn't like it. Explaining the tendencies and excusing them were two different things. Not that he minded being naked, in fact Castiel preferred it to the clothing binding him down. He saw no reason to hide what he was, nor did he care to be looked at, mostly. It was just the principle of the thing; Dean enjoyed it and therefore Castiel wanted to keep that joy from him, cover the portion of his body that seemed to be so enticing. He didn't quite understand the sexual gaze lingering on him; he only knew that he wasn't sure he liked it. It tingled beneath his skin and he didn't know if it was a good thing or bad, whether that was anger or curiosity brewing in his mind.
Castiel's fingers traced the collar pressed against his skin as he quietly made his way down the hall to the stairs; it prevented him from going too far from his master unless given that specific instruction. He couldn't run away if he tried. The collar, the spell, all of it kept him within Dean's proximity, under his thumb like a rodent.
"I'm really sorry," Sam's voice was quiet but the sudden sound made Castiel jump slightly, glancing over his shoulder at the small teen standing at his bedroom door. Sam's hair was a little messy and his eyes tired for one so young, "I'm sorry that Dean treats you like this, that any of this happened in the first place." Sam walked closer though respecting Castiel's personal space, always doing so much more than anyone else to show Castiel some form of courtesy. It was always nice to see Sam, even though it'd only been two days Castiel found himself caring for this little human. Sam was what he'd imagined mankind to be all along, Sam was what he'd wanted to see the first time those two decades ago. But Dean… he couldn't get those green eyes out of his head, always staring.
"What does he want?" Castiel whispered hesitantly, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. "What good does having an angel do him?"
Sam raised his eyebrows and looked away, exhaling somewhat dramatically in a way that puffed up his cheeks. "Honestly, he wants the stupidest thing; to be the best in the Angel Battling fields."
Castiel tilted his head slightly, he'd heard of that. It was where they were forced to fight, gnashing teeth against a wicked wing and blows that would level a small town. "He wants to send me into battles? Against my brothers?" Lucky him, he got one of the sadistic humans.
"Dean doesn't see it that way, it's a sport to most people." Sam tried to explain though he didn't really put an effort into defending his brother, "Like wrestling, or lacrosse. Just much more violent…" He struggled to keep eye contact with Castiel, it was apparent he was ashamed as he curled his hair behind his ears and away from his face. "It's disgusting though, like arena battles in ancient Greece or something."
"I know what it is." Castiel nodded and pressed his lips together as he considered the future he was looking at. "It's more than that to us," He turned his gaze away to the stairs again, just something for him to look at. "We're killing each other out there for humanity's entertainment, I won't do what he wants."
"I know," Sam nodded and it really did sound like he agreed. "But Dean's still taking you to a training camp, it starts next week. I heard him talking about it but I don't know what kind of place it is."
Castiel lowered his head and closed his eyes, trying to picture training grounds for new angels. Nothing pleasant came to mind. He would have been angry that Dean's intentions were so selfish but why would a human who had been raised to believe angels were things ask an angel what it wanted? And on top of that, why couldn't the world have been full of humans like Sam? The friendly, understanding creatures he used to think they were?
The bedroom door opened and Dean stalked out, his original expression one of worry before he spotted Castiel's form at the end of the hall. His eyes were a mixture of emotion, anger, frustration, exhaustion, and a few other things that Castiel didn't care to acknowledge. "Cas what are you doing out here?" Dean took a hold of the angel's shoulder but Castiel promptly pulled away.
His eyes said what he needed to, the same words he'd shouted last time; don't touch me. "What do you want?"
"I asked why you're out here," Dean's tone shifted to more of a demand, seeing that plainly asking wouldn't do it.
"I wanted to look around," Castiel answered forcefully, feeling the sense that Dean wanted him back in the room. He fought it with every ounce he had but the longer he stood his ground the more insistent the command became. Castiel snarled but lowered his head and trudged back, climbing into the bed as per Dean's mental cue.
"Dean," Sam frowned deeply at his brother, his brow crinkled far too much for a fourteen year old. "Why do you have to-"
"Don't, Sam." Dean interrupted him with a dismissive wave and walked back to his room, feeling a little bad for treating his angel this way. He didn't need Sam's obnoxious speeches on top of that. Why couldn't Castiel just listen for once? Dean really wanted to get to that training camp now, the sheets he'd printed off about it looked promising and he'd gotten in pretty cheap. Taking Castiel there would be worth it, if only the stubborn creature would listen enough to get over there.
On that note, Dean was surprised to see Castiel curled in the sheets on his bed, icy gaze staring out at him. The imagery was what Dean had been dreaming about, imagining when he mentally demanded Castiel get back to his room, he'd just never thought that he'd find the angel actually cooperating to such an extent. Dean smiled and crawled in next to him, trapping him against the wall. "Listening for a change?"
"Your wishes, when made, are more than persuasive." Castiel growled at him, pressing his back against the cold wall to try and get away.
Too many movies and raunchy videos played in Dean's mind as he looked at the defiant glare peering at him from his bedding. "Good enough for now, I guess." Dean's eyes trailed down to see the blanket covering Castiel's unclothed form. The idea that Castiel had listened to him because of his thoughts was somewhat lost on him. Dean had never witnessed or seen anything like it before; he'd only ever been in a situation where the other person did things by their own choice even though there had been a suggestion made. Castiel had crawled into his bed, Dean's mind filled in the blanks to say that clearly the angel was looking for something. He didn't realize Castiel's actions were a reflection of his own head.
"Take that off," his tone was a little heavy as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. His mind was a flurry of pornographic images and wild fantasies he'd always had once puberty hit. Angels were his kink, angels were beautiful and lovely and the one he had with him now was even better than anything he'd imagined. Dean watched as his angel hesitated but reluctantly obeyed, hands coming up from underneath to slide the blanket away. Castiel's skin contrasted against the sheets, his lips parted as he took in a breath. Dean didn't look high enough to see the way his angel's brow creased, he was too distracted to hear the worried intake of air. Dean's hand came up and caressed Castiel's side, his heart skipping excitedly by the simple touch. Castiel's flesh was so soft and smooth, it was beautiful and Dean was the only one who had ever come this close before.
Castiel shuddered as his master's hand brushed over his hip, a smooth glide across tanned skin to cup his ass. Dean was getting a feel for the body of his angel, grazing each part of Castiel and taking in every little curve and dip he had to offer. Castiel wanted to protest but Dean's intentions were far stronger than his ability to speak in that moment. He felt like he'd been set on fire, he could feel how interested and invested Dean was, how far Dean was willing to go and the thought scared him. Castiel sighed out a whimper but it was barely a protest and was easily mistaken for a moan in pleasure. As per Dean's whim, Castiel let the blanket come off and he rolled over, stretched out face down in the pillow. He propped up his knees to hold his rear upright and exposed, he could feel a light twitch in his loins against his will and it was starting to become more than just a little uncomfortable.
Dean paused to appreciate the 'offering' made, gazing at the sights that Castiel had to give him. He moved behind his angel, staring down at the expanse of writhing muscle as Castiel shifted his weight to find a more comfortable stance. His eyes drifted from Castiel's mop of dark hair, along his spine to his hips and pausing to admire the beautiful sculpture that was his ass. He could see everything, the hole of Castiel's entrance, the strength in his thighs, the bulge of his balls. But Dean particularly enjoyed seeing Castiel's cock hanging heavy, angled and resting against his right thigh. Dean dragged his lower lip between his teeth as he watched the little way his angel's ass moved, his hole flexing just enough to be detected. In Dean's mind Castiel was begging for it, there was no other reason the angel would have crawled onto his bed and rolled over, rutting up like this. Again he failed to realize the strength of his hold over Castiel's actions.
Dean licked his fingers and traced the tight ring gently, getting a stifled groan from the mound of pillows. He smiled and slid his hand down to the prize between Castiel's trembling thighs, remembering that this very thing was pressed against him earlier when Castiel had tackled him. That warm feeling, soft and exposed flesh pressed down between them; so close.
And now he could touch it; but something in him had to stop. Something wasn't quite right. His mind had reeled on itself, something he'd never felt in his head stinging and shaking. He felt a little ill and his hands had started to tremble. Dean frowned, blood rushing back to his brain as some concern flooded him, his mind hinting toward the same thing over and over; check on Castiel. He moved beside his angel again, peering down at Castiel's face pushed hard into the pillows. He pulled the other's shoulders back and in that moment his demanding thoughts had entirely let go, Castiel flinched and rolled over immediately because that's what Dean had wanted, Dean wanted to see his face.
The moment he did it had stopped Dean dead in his tracks; the tears streaming down those reddened, wide cheeks alone was enough to make him stop. But the look in Castiel's eyes, that horribly frightened look made him feel like a monster.
What the fuck was he doing?
"Cas…" he whispered, a realization dawning on him that Castiel's expression was there for a reason; he was a monster. Those thoughts weren't Castiel's, the hope he'd felt that maybe the angel would bend over for him was a strong one and it was Dean's. Castiel had to listen to him, Castiel had no choice and by extension he was forcing every bit of that onto the poor thing. Dean felt sick in his own skin. "Hey… I'm-I'm sorry." He quivered with that new light shone on him, seeing himself differently. "I won't, I promise I won't unless you want to."
Castiel shivered, his legs curling up as more confusion rolled over him. His bottom lip shook along with his jaw, unable to look away from Dean. He was frozen in place, unsure of what to do, scared and homesick.
"I'm so sorry, Cas." Dean could only ramble as he sat back; even more disgusted with himself the more the situation settled in his head, "I hadn't thought about the spells, I forgot you don't always have a choice… You must be so scared." Dean knew that he probably had no right to touch the angel but he pulled Castiel up into a hug anyway, his entire outlook felt different but he was too stunned with himself to really notice it yet. "If you don't like it, tell me." He whispered into the soft hair of his angel.
Castiel was even more confused; Dean hadn't realized what he was doing? Dean had forgotten that he had no choice? Wasn't Castiel just a thing to him? An object to own? What did it matter if he had a choice?
He was angry and scared; he wanted to push Dean away. But he couldn't, not because Dean wouldn't let him, but because he hadn't had a comforting embrace in ages. His stomach settled, the sickness in his bones eased and he tried to rest. Words didn't come to him yet; he didn't want to speak to Dean yet.
It took more than an hour before Castiel could calm down but Dean didn't move, he didn't say another word until Castiel did. The angel couldn't help but wonder about Dean, about the feeling he got from him now. Their connection became more and more apparent to him; he could feel it there but not all the time. When he did, though, he felt Dean's intentions. There was no strain on demands; Dean had somehow turned it off, as if he'd realized Castiel's consent was important to him.
Could that be it? Could Dean have really done something good without knowing it?
Castiel thought maybe, just maybe he'd misjudged Dean Winchester. He finally relaxed against the embrace and closed his eyes, allowing his breathing to slow down again. Maybe he could talk to this human, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. It could have been worse; he could have been caught by Crystal Wings.
It wasn't until he saw the sun rising that he decided to speak. "I won't be so easy to train," he warned quietly though there was a touch of play in his tone. His anger was still present but it was distant now, feeling a little less like a cornered animal.
Dean smiled; glad to hear Castiel talking to him again. "I won't be either," he laughed lightly, not quite wanting to let go of his angel but he leaned away all the same. "You can wear my clothes for now, until we get you your own."
Castiel looked over to where he'd seen Dean remove clothing from, some unit of furniture with drawers meant for that kind of thing. "Not for bed," He slipped under the covers again, pressing his heated backside against the cooled wall, it felt better than last time for some reason. "I'd prefer to sleep this way."
Dean was surprised to find himself blushing; he was just about to willing stick his dick into the most private parts of Castiel and now he was blushing at the thought of laying naked next to him. No other thoughts came to mind, his angel was something special. "You're awesome."
Castiel glanced at Dean's face and let the corners of his mouth turn up, he didn't have to sleep but it wasn't impossible. And quite frankly, after all of the fear and adrenaline, he felt he needed it.