Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

I Dean of Genie	By : rae_roberts Category: Supernatural > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2234 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Supernatural, nor do I own any rights to either Disney's Aladdin or I Dream of Genie, which I have heavily ripped off for this fic. No money is being made from this silly little fic.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
The bunker felt even more confining and restrictive than his genie bottle, but Dean didn’t want to leave even for a minute in case he missed Cas’s return. Meanwhile, he paced like a demon in a devil’s trap. Over to the bookcase, back to the table. Then back to the bookcase, yanking out a volume at random and riffling through it, then back again to drop the book down on the table with a thump.
“Dude. Try and calm down before you drive us both crazy,” Sam groaned.
Both brothers looked up with relief at the knock on the door. Sam started to rise from his chair but Dean was already at the door, trailing purple smoke behind him. Sam shook his head at his eagerness.
“Cas! Where the hell have you been?”
“It’s a long story.” The angel looked rough, dark circles under his eyes, his scruff of beard stubble standing out starkly against skin so pale as to be almost translucent.   The worst, though, were the ruins of his wings. Dean wanted to pick him up and carry him, but he resisted the urge, settling for guiding Cas toward a chair with an arm across his shoulders.
“Dean said you had one last mission,” Sam spoke up, looking worried. Even without being able to see the angel’s true form, he could see Cas’s deterioration since the last time they’d all been together.
“It’s a long story,” Cas repeated tiredly. “It can wait. I came to talk to Dean about his future.”
“My future. You mean who you’re going to pawn me off on when you die.”
Sam looked like he was about to protest, but Castiel nodded, seeming unaffected by Dean’s anger. “If that is how you want to put it, yes.   I believe Hannah has the good judgement to--”
“Hannah? That’s your plan? Cas, she was ready to let Metatron go free to try and save you,” Dean interrupted. “That sound like good judgement to you?”
“Hannah has learned from that mistake. There is no other I would trust as completely as I trust her.”
“You trust her more than any other angel?” Dean asked, disbelieving.
Sam frowned, not sure what his brother was referencing with the question.
“Yes. Of course,” Cas answered without hesitation.
“Just let me restore your grace,” Dean argued again. “Then the whole point of Hannah will be moot.”
“I will not wish that of you.” In spite of his obvious exhaustion there was a stubborn set to Cas’s stubbled jaw.
Dean was pacing again. “You’ll leave me because of some stupid idea you’ve got that you don’t want to be my Master. Fine, I get it. You don’t care that I’m immortal, that I’ll outlive Sam and you and everyone else I ever cared about. You don’t care that I’ll be stuck for all eternity, alone, with Hannah instead of my best friend. But what about your lover? You’re not just running out on me, you’re running out on them.”
Sam’s eyebrows rose and he leaned forward in his seat.   Cas had talked about the angels from his garrison with affection, and they’d known the angel Balthazar had been a good friend, but Cas having a lover? This was new.
“My lover? I don’t--”
“Cut the bullshit, Cas. I heard you tell Hannah when she was going all goo-goo eyes over you. You told her there was ‘another’.”
The angel’s tired eyes widened, incredulous, and he huffed out a laugh that quickly turned into a wracking cough. When he could speak again Castiel said, “Dean, you misunderstood.”
“The hell I did. I could feel it, even though you’re keeping me shut out. I’ve been feeling flashes of it ever since you rubbed my damned bottle. You’re in love! You’re telling me you’d really rather die than be with them?”
“Please. I’ve made peace with my death. I know it seems difficult now; you’re used to being mortal, but one day you’ll understand it’s for the best. Immortality gives one a different perspective.”
Dean’s hurt was overwhelming. Cas would rather leave, would rather die, than stay with him. He’d lost so many lovers and friends and family members over the years, but if Cas died on him that loneliness and rejection would stretch for eternity.   He could feel a lump rising in his throat, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Dean fought it, clinging to anger instead. He wanted to lash out, but the angel looked so pitiful, crumpled wings drooping to the floor as he slumped over in his seat, eyes heavy-lidded as if, Dean thought, he would fall asleep at any second.   “You know what? I don’t care how lofty your immortal, angelic perspective is.   All you have to do is make one wish. Stand up and tell me to my face that you’re not willing to do that, damn it!”   He grabbed Cas by the lapels of his trench coat and hauled him to his feet. He felt a strong urge to physically slap some sense into the stubborn angel, even as his mind recoiled from the very thought of hurting his Master.
They stood face to face, Cas swaying slightly from exhaustion, Dean from the strong, conflicting currents of emotion coursing through him.   “I won’t make a wish, Dean. I will not be your Master.” Castiel’s voice was firm, his eyes locked on Dean’s.
Dean was about to blurt out something when Cas leaned in, closing his eyes as he claimed Dean’s mouth in a kiss.   The angel’s hands gripped his shoulders, his body suddenly pressed against Dean’s in a tight embrace.   Startled, Dean found himself wrapping his arms around the angel just to keep his balance. He stood there, holding Cas, too astonished to resist the unexpected kiss.
...And it was a damn good kiss, too, he thought wildly as Cas’s tongue traced his lips, urging them open. Dean found himself kissing back, his pulse speeding up as their tongues tangled and Cas let the emotional barrier between them drop. Dean tried and failed to stifle a moan as desire surged through his veins.   He was vaguely aware of Sam making an exaggerated throat-clearing noise, but his focus was entirely on his Master and the passion rushing through the bond.
Then Cas sagged in Dean’s arms. For an instant he thought the angel was just changing position, but Cas’s lips went slack and his head lolled back.   He was out cold. Dean lowered him back into his seat, dumbstruck.
“Is he--” Sam’s worried query cut off in a chuckle as Cas let out a soft snore. “Whoa. I never expected to see that.”
The smirk on his brother’s face was too much for Dean. “Cut it out. This isn’t funny. He’s in a bad way.”
Sam sobered instantly. “How bad?”
“He’s dying. You’ve got to help me talk some sense into him, Sammy, or I’m going to be spending eternity with Hannah.”
“But that’s just it, Dean. It makes perfect sense, from Cas’s point of view.”
Dean scowled. “Oh yeah? Then fill me in, college boy.”
Sam rolled his eyes, letting the old insult slide. “What you told me about the Erelim, the origin of genies according to Cas, they all ended up cursed, right? I mean, it was bad, wasn’t it?”
“I’d say ‘bad’ was an understatement,” Dean said, remembering the little nephilim, Minu, and the death and destruction she’d caused. It was easy to see why Heaven had decided to curse the offspring of humans and Erelim. Creatures with that much power--creatures like him--couldn’t be allowed free rein.   “What does that have to do with Cas?”
“Isn’t it obvious? He tried being God for a while, remember? The whole ‘love me or I’ll destroy you’ bit? He knows how well that played out.”
“So?” Dean practically growled in frustration when Sam gave him a look, as if baffled that he wasn’t catching on.
“He’s refusing to make wishes because the curse compels you to grant them. You’re a slave; if Cas plays the Master card, you have to obey.”
“So?” Dean demanded again. “Cas thinks he’d make a bad Master? Like Hannah would be any better at it?”
That insufferable smirk was back on Sam’s face.   “Hannah isn’t in love with you.”

Dean laid Cas out on his bed and tucked a blanket around him.   “Cas isn’t in love with me. This is… I don’t know.   Some weird, near-death delusion.”
“If you say so.” Sam tried not to grin, but the corners of his mouth kept twitching up.
“Well, it’s a moot point if he is, Sammy, because he’ll be dead within a week.” Dean was back to pacing, striding back down the hall into the library and taking another lap from the bookshelves to the big central table.
Sam felt for him.   He was upset about Cas, too, but the genie curse made it much worse for Dean. “You said Hannah tried bargaining with Metatron for Cas’s grace? So he didn’t burn through it all when he closed the gates of heaven?”
Dean spread his hands helplessly. “If Metatron was even telling the truth, which we don’t know.”
“Well, why don’t you find out?”
“You don’t get it, Sam!” Dean’s frustration was obvious. “When it comes to Cas’s grace, he’s got my magic on lockdown.”
Sam scoffed. “You’re not thinking it through. Come on, you’ve been a hunter all your life. You’ve only been a genie for a few weeks and already you’ve gone soft,” he taunted.
Dean’s mouth opened, probably to deliver an angry retort, but then his eyes widened to match as he caught on. “I can look for Cas’s grace as long as I don’t use magic or wishes,” he said, brightening.
“And when you find it, you can restore it. Cas shouldn’t have any objection to using his own grace.”
Dean nodded agreement and cracked his knuckles. “I’ll be back in a bit. Right now, I’ve got a douchebag angel to interrogate.”

Sam shook his head as his brother disappeared in a puff of smoke. He almost felt sorry for Metatron.
- 11
- 12
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

I Dean of Genie