Castiel and the Phantom of the Opera [Destiel]

Chapter 12: Twisted Every Way

        “GET OUT OF THE WAY!” Sam shouted as he shouldered his way through the terrified crowd while carrying a limp Castiel. Everything that he had wanted to avoid had happened. Everything he’d been praying didn’t occur had unfolded. Dean was back to terrorize the opera house, and he was still out to get Castiel. Not only that, but now he had an opera he was forcing the owners to put on. And Castiel . . . Sam shook his head. The poor boy was still so young and he was already caught up in something so dark and twisted.

     He pushed his way through a door that led back to the dormitories of the theatre. Sam could hear footsteps hard on the wooden floor behind them. “Monsieur Winchester!” Balthazar’s voice sounded close behind him. “Monsieur Winchester, please! Castiel is my friend! Is he alright? What happened?!”

     Sam sighed as they neared the door that led to where the dancers slept. He briefly glanced over his shoulder and, to his great relief, Balthazar was the only one who had followed him this far. With a small growl, he nodded. “I’ll tell you, just help me lie him down somewhere. Open the door for me.”

     Balthazar complied, and helped Sam carry Castiel in and lie him on the nearest bed. Both men were huffing and puffing with it was over. “Okay . . .” Balthazar breathed, looking at Sam with a determined gaze. “What happened? Why is Cas unconscious?”

     The choreographer took a moment to try to piece together what exactly he was going to tell him. The truth? Should he reveal Castiel’s affair with the infamous opera ghost? Or should he alter it and make Castiel sound like a victim? I suppose that is the truth . . . Dean is taking things too far . . . But can you blame him? His first shot at love and it’s ripped away from him. “It was him,” Sam finally whispered.

     “What? Who?” Balthazar demanded; his voice was laced with impatience.

     “The Phantom of the Opera,” the choreographer explained.

     Balthazar’s eyes widened. He turned away from Sam for a few moments and stared at the wooden floor. The dancer shook his head. “No . . . Why would the Phantom be interested in Castiel?” he murmured, almost as if he were speaking to himself. He looked back at Sam, his brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

     Sam shook his head. “I don’t expect you to.” As he rose to leave, Balthazar roughly grabbed his forearm.

     “NO!” he snarled, standing up beside the older man. “I’m not going to let you run off until you tell me what is really going on here, Monsieur Winchester! Castiel is my best friend – I’d die before I let anything happen to him!”

     Sam had to admire Balthazar’s loyalty. It almost reminded him of his own to Dean. But I have betrayed my brother . . . I’ve hurt him . . . I brought him to that world of unending darkness and he thrived in it. He let it consume him . . . I did this. “Balthazar,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “The Phantom is Castiel’s teacher – the one who taught him how to sing so well. And I fear that the Phantom may be in love with Castiel.”

     Balthazar’s eyes widened. “You mean . . . really love as in romantically?”

     “Yes,” Sam murmured, avoiding the younger man’s gaze.

     For a while, Balthazar was silent. In all honesty, Sam was surprised that not more people had suspected that at least Dean had feelings for Castiel. Of course, their society would never accept two men loving one another in such a way. But to Sam, it was blatantly obvious just by the things Dean did to for the boy – the display at the masquerade was more than enough to convince him.