There had never been a time when Dean's heart was racing than the moment he had walked into the motel room to find blood and feathers everywhere in the room. His eyes had gone wide, bending down to pick up one of the white feathers, blood dripping from the fragile object. Castiel... he thought as he stood back up looking around the room. It was a complete mess; blood covered the walls and the broken bits of furniture that were all over the floor in the room. Why... why would someone want to take Castiel? To get to me...
The phone in the motel room rang, and Dean snatched up off the receiver. "Yeah?" he asked his voice sounding more panicked than he would have liked. For the first several moments there was no sound from the person on the other end. And then...
"Hey there Deany boy, miss me?"
Dean nearly crushed the phone in his hand, his teeth grinding together. Memories, the horrible flashbacks to his time in Hell under this demon's guidance nearly made him sick to his stomach, and the thought that Alastair now had his grubby paws on Castiel, his Castiel. "Alastiar... what did you do with him? Where's Cas?" There was practically an animalistic growl to his voice.
"Oh he's safe for now, we were just about to start or play time, you remember that don't you Dean?" The demon on the other end of the phone seemed to purr at him. Images of Castiel tied up, bleeding, broken, flashed into Dean's mind and nearly made him sick to his stomach. "I guess that would be a yes."
"Let him go."
"Sorry Dean, can't do that."
"Why the hell not?" Dean ran a hand over his face, his heart pounding in his chest like a thousand beating drums.
"Cause I happen to like my new toy thanks, so I'll be keeping him, unless you got something better to offer me."
Dean felt all the fear that he had been able to push to the back of his mind, the nightmares from being in hell, the pain of Alastair's torture, he had managed to suppress it all and now suddenly it was all coming back to him in a rush of emotion. That man, Hell's grand torturer, had Castiel, his Cas, his angel. He'd be damned before he let Alastair do anything to.
"I'm waiting Dean."
He took a shaky breath, and closed his eyes as he sank down onto the bed. "What if...I traded myself for him?" Silence came from the other end of the line, a silence that made him sick, not knowing what the answer would be.
"You got yourself a deal, Dean. Come to that old barn on the outskirts of town." The line went dead after that.
Dean felt weaker than a new born puppy as he got to his feet, getting his things together. He had just made a deal with the demon who had tortured him for nearly forty years in Hell, god what was he thinking? That I need to save him...that he is what matters and nothing else. Dean got into the Impala and started to drive. It was a long and very quiet one, and he was trying to formulate some sort of plan in his mind, as his hand rested on the Colt, the blessed gun that could kill anything.
You'd get just one shot. Best make it count... Dean thought as he pulled into the clearing just outside of the barn. The place looked deserted enough but from inside he heard the distinct sound of someone crying out in pain. The sound ripped at his heart, he wanted to rush inside blindly and save Castiel but he couldn't he had to have a plan...
He grabbed the Colt off the seat and went towards the barn, the gun raised to eye level, his hold steady. Slowly, he went inside the barn and stopped dead in his tracks. There, strapped to the all-to-familiar and horrifying rack, his wings hanging down limp and bloody the red liquid staining the pure white feathers was Castiel. The angel was naked and seemed lifeless, his chest cut up, blood dripping down from his mouth. Under any other circumstances he'd be worried as to why he could see the angel's wings, right then that didn't matter. He looked up at Dean and their eyes met for a split second, and Dean was sure that Castiel looked more panicked than he had moments earlier.
It was then that he felt the heat at the back of his neck, the feeling of someone's breath right behind him. He spun around gun raised and pointed it directly at Alastair's head. "I'm here now let him go you son of a bitch."
Alastair smirked and snapped his fingers, the sound of a body hitting the ground followed soon afterwards. Dean looked at him before he rushed over to Castiel's side, the Colt falling to the ground behind him. He pulled the injured angel into his lap, holding him there in a protective manor.
"You're a fool," he heard Castiel whisper hoarsely to him, one hand gripping at Dean's shirt, the angel's ivory skin stained red with blood. "Shouldn't have come...he can't..."
"Just shut up Cas," Dean said, wiping a bit of the blood from the corner of Castiel's mouth. "Came here for you, don't let me stop being all heroic now." A faint smile appeared on Castiel's lips and Dean leaned down brushing his own lightly against Castiel's. "Give me a chance to save you for once..."
Before Castiel could respond, Alastair chuckled darkly, and the two of them looked to see the gun pointed directly at Dean. "How sweet but I'd like my end of the deal Dean. You're my bitch again."
God, Dean was sure he could Castiel's heart beat quicken beneath his hand, but the hunter only smirked at the demon as he pulled a gun from his belt. "I'd be afraid if that was the real Colt."
"What?" Alastair looked taken aback at that, moving backwards by just a step. "No!"
"Bye bye bad guy," Dean said and pulled the trigger. The gun went off, and Alastair fell to the ground, dead, a bullet hole in his forehead. With the demon dead, Dean was able to turn his attention back to the injured angel in his arms. "Come on Cas, let's get you back and cleaned up..."
"Dean?" Castiel asked as he was carried back out to Dean's precious Impala.
"Yeah?" Dean carefully got Castiel situated in the backseat, trying not to do anymore damage to those beautiful wings of his. He glanced at the angel, one hand on Castiel's shoulder.
"Thank you," the angel whispered to him just as Dean placed his jacket over his waist, giving him both a bit warmth and 'protection.'
Dean closed the door to the passenger side and got into the Impala before he looked at Castiel. "For what? Saving you?"
"For being my savior..."
That stunned Dean to silence, and for a moment he said nothing just looked at him. Then, he smiled leaning over to place a soft kiss to Castiel's cheek. "You're welcome my angel," he whispered, and started to drive. Castiel was safe again, and most importantly, he was back with Dean.
