And i will walk on water

Chapter six

Title: And I Will Walk On Water (6/18)
Characters: Dean and Castiel, Sam, Zachariah
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~7,900
Summary: Various things happen, but most notably, an angel gets a hug. (Actually, he gets a whole bag of them.)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Zachariah stopped in front of Dean with Ruby's knife in one hand and ordered, "Give me your arm." He was no longer smiling.

Dean gritted his teeth and gave it to the son of a bitch in the form of a hard punch to the jaw, but unlike Castiel, Zachariah didn't give way and turn his head, and the loudest sound was that of the bones in Dean's hand crunching. Dean let out a wordless yell of agony and frustration and tried to snatch his hand back, but Zachariah caught his wrist in an iron grip and twisted it to expose the underside of his forearm.

"I wouldn't try that again if I were you," he said conversationally. "Never know what might happen to your precious Sammy and sweet Cas, right?" Then he winked, and Dean would have punched him again with his good hand, but he didn't think the bastard's threats were empty and the fight left him even if the fury didn't.

"Good boy." Zachariah smiled in the face of Dean's sneering glare, and then turned his attention to Dean's forearm. "Now, then, let's get this oath over with, shall we?" He pressed the tip of the blade into the soft skin there and applied just enough force to cut through it. A heavy silver bowl suddenly appeared to hover below Dean's arm and catch the thin stream of blood that welled up from the wound. As Zachariah carved a neat, bloody circle that took up a third of his forearm and then began slowly and carefully filling it in with strange symbols, Dean winced and closed his eyes, more from grief and resignation than from pain.

He had no idea how much power this spell was going to have over him, but he was willing to bet that Zachariah wasn't taking his chances this time. Dean knew with a crushing certainty that he would be as good as theirs when this was finished; their good little bitch for the rest of his life, or at least until they were done with him, just like he'd been Alastair's good little bitch. It made him shake with shame and suppressed rage, but mostly he just wondered if he would ever see Sam or Bobby or Castiel again. Zachariah had said Sam and Castiel would be safe as long as he cooperated, but Dean trusted him about as far as he could throw him, and he couldn't move Zachariah at all. Still, what choice did he have? Dean just hoped that he would still want to see Sam and Bobby and Castiel again, that this spell wouldn't take that away from him, at least. Dean ached at the thought that it might -- that he might forget to care about even his Sammy anymore, because how else would the spell work? -- but Zachariah interrupted his thoughts.

"A work of art, wouldn't you say?" he asked, seeming quite proud of his handiwork. Dean opened his eyes and looked down at it despite himself, distantly surprised that he hadn't even noticed when the searing pain had stopped. His arm was a mess of bloody runes that wouldn't stop gushing, and there was more blood in that silver bowl than he was comfortable with. Zachariah cleared this throat pompously. "Now, repeat after me."

Dean tensed. Last chance to spit in the son of a bitch's face, he thought desperately, but just as he was about to give up his last shred of hope for a miracle, something seemed to distract Zachariah, and he looked up at the ceiling with a frown. The bowl of Dean's blood fell crashing to the floor, right on Zachariah's toes, and he actually yelped and jumped back, releasing his grip on Dean's wrist as he did so--

And then Sam was looming there behind him, suddenly, and Dean could have cried in shocked relief at the sight. Sam had a tire iron which he swung viciously at Zachariah's head to produce a satisfyingly loud and fleshy thud, but even that was nowhere near as satisfying as the sound of Zachariah's skull cracking. He went down with a yell of agony and Sam followed, bringing the metal crashing down onto Zachariah's hands when he raised them to protect his head. He screamed, but it didn't stop Sam from raising the tire iron again with a sneer and preparing for yet another strike.