Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

The Keys to Destiny	By : mistresswhimsy Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2114 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Nothing about Supernatural is mine everything belongs to its rightful owners. I make no money from the series or this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
It was Sam's scream that had awoken Castiel. The half blood was off the couch and up the stairs to Sam's room almost as quickly as Dean, who had bolted inside seconds before the other man. Castiel felt the heat of fire as he came around the door with enough speed to nearly slam into the wall. Inside was a scene so horrifying he knew it would stay with him for the whole of his life.

At first all the half blood saw was the fire raging against the ceiling, tearing through material with a terrifying hunger. Then he realized a body was pinned there, already mostly consumed in the flames. Blood pooled on the bed below and smeared the face of a horrified, still screaming Sam, struggling in his brother's arms to reach the woman who was already lost. For a second Castiel was unable to move, not because of Jessica's burning body or the blood or even the stench of charred flesh but because of Sam, because of his face twisted in agony and the almost inhuman sounds of pain he made as his hands reached futilely for the ceiling. Then a voice pierced his terror, a desperate voice calling his name, calling for help.

It was Dean.

Rushing forward despite the heat, Castiel helped Dean grasp the younger man and pull him forcefully from the room. The fire was already spreading down the walls. Castiel could hear shouts from downstairs, saw that all the doors had been flung open and that only Mary remained upstairs, rushing down the hall towards them, her face twisted not in fear but in anger. Relief flooded her eyes when she saw both her sons alive, then concern when she realized Sam was the only one being pulled from the room.

"Where's Jessica?" Mary cried over the roaring of the fire.

Before anyone could answer a blinding flash flared from Sam's room. The fierce light of the flames flickered out, the heat diminished. When it faded Amor was standing in the hall behind them, staring at Sam with such agony in his eyes that it nearly matched the younger man's own.

"I tried to get here," Amor whispered. "When I realized he was coming...I tried to get here in time...oh God, Sam, I'm so sorry!" He started forward but seemed to think better of it.

Sam didn't seem to hear him. He'd gone limp between his brother and Cas, his eyes empty and staring at nothing.

An ambulance and a fire truck had arrived by the time the four made it downstairs. Mary left them to explain that the fire was out while a man came over and tried to take Sam. Dean practically snarled at him, which didn't seem to surprise the paramedic. "I just want to make sure he's okay," He said to Dean in a soothing tone of voice.

Releasing Sam with one arm, Castiel reached around and placed a hand on Dean's back. The other man glanced at him, his snarl fading into a reluctantly accepting frown. "He's not hurt," Dean muttered even as he let the paramedic lead Sam to the ambulance, where he had him sit just inside the open back doors. Sam went along without a word, his eyes still unfocused and hollow.

"No, I don't think he is," the man agreed even as he began to check him over. "He is in psychological shock, though."

Dean hovered protectively over Sam's shoulder while the paramedic completed his examination. He tried looking over Dean as well but ended up backing away with his hands held up defensively when Dean unleashed a snarl far worse than the one he had uttered before. Castiel allowed the man to examine him without complaint, taking the opportunity to get close to Sam. When he touched his hand he felt Sam's presence, distant and withdrawn but intact. A sigh of relief escaped him; he would be alright. The grief would consume him for a while but he would be alright.

Time passed in a blur of questions and answers, actions and reactions. Castiel found himself staying close to Sam, his hand ever present over the younger man's own. He'd read once that when someone went into this kind of shock the best thing was to help them emerge from the initial withdrawal. Staying too long within his own mind could cause lasting effects. After what he'd been through tonight, Castiel wanted to at least try to prevent the worst of the possible future symptoms. A daze drifted over him as he tried to use his Cherub side to connect to Sam more fully. At first he drew back, shying away from companionship, from reality, from everything, but after a little coaxing Castiel felt the hand beneath his curl upwards in response. The other man blinked once and took in a deep breath. He didn't move or look around him but for now it was enough.

"Is he..."

Castiel looked up sharply, startled by the sudden voice. Amor was standing in front of them, his eyes wide and quietly horrified. "I tried," He whispered.

"This isn't your fault, Dad," Castiel murmured with as much reassurance as his weariness would allow. "If you want to blame someone, blame the Angels who let this happen."

"But I should have been watching out for him!" Amor burst out angrily, his features contorting into a look of agonized fury. Castiel leaned back, startled by the almost unheard of expression in his Father's eyes.

Just as quickly as it had come, the emotion vanished, replaced by a sadness that was also painfully out of place in eyes so often filled with happiness. He reached out and touched Sam's cheek with the tips of his fingers. Slowly, as though in a trance, Sam lifted his eyes to the Cherub's and did something Castiel would not have imagined he was capable of just then.

He smiled.

It wasn't a happy smile, it was a reassuring expression, a weary effort pushed through from behind a wall of pain and grief. It disappeared quickly but Castiel found himself wondering again if it was merely the connection of Angel and Believer that was making them act this way.

Instead of seeming assured, Amor looked stunned and even more crestfallen than before.

"Dad," Castiel said quietly. "What's going on?"

Amor let his hand fall from Sam's face. "I'll explain later," He said. "I have to go. If he asks, tell him I'll be back as soon as I can."

The half blood said nothing to stop the Cherub as he vanished. It would not have mattered if he had and he knew it.

"Dean," Sam murmured suddenly. He said nothing further but Castiel understood. He stood from the back of the ambulance and walked over to Dean, who was standing beside his Mother and Father as they looked at the house with sadness written plainly across their faces. Carefully, Castiel reached out and touched Dean's shoulder. He didn't start or snarl like he had at the paramedic, he just turned and looked at Cas questioningly.

"Sam needs you," Castiel said simply.

Mary reached out and stopped Dean before he could walk away. "Take him to your place," she said quietly, her eyes looking passed Dean and to her other son with a strange mixture of hardness and grief. "Get him away from here. He won't come out of it until he gets away."

It was her. Somehow it didn't surprise Castiel that she was the Hunter in the family. Before he had seen nothing to say she wasn't a normal woman but now, with that hardness in her eyes and the strength that it reflected, there was no question. He said nothing about his observation; it was not his place to reveal her secret. Instead he silently followed Dean back to Sam. Between the two of them they led him to the Impala and left the horrific scene behind them. Cas sat in the back with Sam, once again using his empathic abilities to connect to his still too distant presence. Several times he saw Dean glance at them in the rear view mirror and every time he thought he felt just a little more of Dean's apprehension slide away.

The house was dark when they arrived. Dean stumbled blindly towards the light switch while Castiel waited by the door with Sam. When the living room light came on all of them blinked several times and Sam made a tiny, startled noise. He looked up and blinked as though surprised. "What happened?"

Dean came over and took Sam by the arm, leading him towards the couch. "We're at my place," he said softly as he guided his baby brother onto the couch.

Sam paused and for a moment Castiel feared he would retreat inside himself again. Instead he said quietly, "Jess is gone."

Dean didn't answer for a moment. He swallowed several times and blinked furiously for a moment before saying, "Yeah. She's...she's gone. Come on, you need to sleep. We'll figure this out in the morning, okay?"

Sam shook his head, almost violently. He started to shake when Dean tried to get him to lay down. "No," he whispered, his tone frightened and almost child-like. "I'll see it again."

Not tonight he wouldn't. Castiel was across the room and at Dean's side before he could register the fact that he'd made the decision to move. He held up a hand but paused to glance at Dean, his eyes silently asking permission. The other man stared at him a long moment, then nodded slowly.

"It's okay, Sam," Castiel murmured as he reached down and laid a hand across his eyes. "You won't dream tonight."

Almost immediately, Sam began to relax. He sank bonelessly into the couch cushions, his lids drifting down as sleep tugged at him. The half blood had no idea what he'd just done or how he'd done it but he was grateful for the ability, even if it was as short lived as Sam's peaceful sleep would be.

"Cas?" Sam's eyes slipped fully closed. "Where's Amor?"

Cas never had time to answer before Sam fell asleep.

As soon as Dean was sure his little brother was settled he began to walk towards the kitchen. In the doorway he paused and looked back to see if Castiel was following him. Despite the situation the half blood felt a thrill shiver down his spine, accompanied by just a small side of disbelief. He followed the other man into the kitchen where Dean pulled out two beers. Then he stopped suddenly, staring at the green bottles with a thoughtful expression before he replaced one and pulled out instead a hard lemonade. He held it out hesitantly to Cas, his gaze questioning and even a little nervous.

"You don't like beer, do you?" Dean's eyes flicked uncertainly around the floor until Castiel reached out and took the bottle. Then he lifted them to look at the half blood, though he never quite met his gaze.

"Not really," Cas replied. He could hear his surprise in his own voice.

"I don't know..." Dean shook his head and opened his beer. He drained nearly half the contents before speaking again. "I don't know why I know that."

Cas opened his lemonade and took a much smaller drink than Dean had. "Do you want me to explain it?" He asked after a moment. "Or would you be more comfortable not knowing."

Dean leaned back against the counter, his gaze thoughtful again. "Explain it," he said finally.

Cas felt another quick shiver but tried to conceal his reaction. Slowly, he told himself, this was going to happen slowly. "Have you ever known what Sam wants, or answered a question before he asked it?"

Dean nodded. "Mom always said it was because we were so close," he said. He waved a hand between the two of them. "We're not close."

Not yet, Castiel thought. "Our souls are. I think if we became...better friends...you'd find that you know a lot more than just what kind of drink I like."

The other man seemed to catch Castiel's hesitation when he said 'better friends' but said nothing about it. "Can you sense something about me?" He asked. He sounded genuinely curious, though he still didn't meet Castiel's gaze.

Several things. Cas took another drink, longer this time, debating whether or not to share everything he could sense from Dean or just a little. "I can sense how scared you are for Sam," he said quietly. "How much you hurt for him."

Dean glanced out towards the living room, a flash of that hurt and fear showing briefly in his eyes, and Cas began to understand that this conversation was serving as a distraction. The half blood searched for something else to tell him and quickly blurted out the first thing that came to mind in an attempt to lead him away from the pain he'd been trying to avoid in the first place. "That beer isn't your favorite."

For a second the two were silent, then Dean smiled wanly and lifted his bottle in the vague motion of a toast. "Good call. Which one is?"

Castiel shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "We're not that close."

He hadn't meant for it to come out bitter but knew it had the moment the words left his mouth. Fingers began to move restlessly over the neck of the glass bottle; had Dean heard it? The other man hadn't moved, hadn't reacted at all, maybe it had gone unnoticed.

"Budweiser," Dean said suddenly. "Kinda average, I guess, but it's my favorite anyway."

Silence fell again. Castiel moved slowly, almost cautiously, across the room until he was leaning on the counter beside the other man. He left a foot or so between them, which Dean seemed comfortable with. They finished their drinks and then just stood there, staring into the living room and towards the sleeping Sam. They'd yet to hear a single noise from him, indicating that whatever Castiel had done had worked. It was going to be a hard morning for him, and a hard few nights afterwards, but for a few precious hours nothing could touch him.

"Does this have anything to do with what you were running from?" Dean asked suddenly.

Castiel glanced over at him. His eyes had gone hard, like his Mother's. There was less experience in the mask but no less strength. "I thought maybe you'd forgotten about that."

Dean chuckled suddenly. "I did for a while," he said. "Kinda hard to focus when your imaginary friend has his hand down your pants."

The half blood felt his ears flush red and looked away embarrassedly. "Sorry. I was...in a hurry."

Dean shrugged. "S'okay." He reached over and somewhat hesitantly punched Cas on the shoulder.

Cas smiled at the contact and tried to ignore the butterflies that had suddenly taken up residence in his stomach. "It's connected. That was the second demon to find me while I was looking for you, though I think both incidents may have been an accident. They're all looking for your brother. We're involved but we're...lesser players, at least to them." he paused, then added, " At least I am."

Dean shuddered and crossed his arms suddenly, as though to hide it. "Demons," he muttered. "Still having issues with that."

The man's eyes flicked towards a small clock on the wall above the doorway suddenly. The hands pointed out that it was nearly three in the morning. Dean let out a quiet groan and lifted a hand to scrub it over his face. Then he shook his head and muttered something to himself, too quietly for Cas to hear.

"What is it?" Cas asked.

"Work," Dean answered. "I gotta call Rob, tell him I'll be gone a few days."

The half blood almost said he'd likely be gone much longer than that but kept his silence as Dean picked up the phone and called his boss.

... * ...

Rob had been understanding and supportive after Dean had explained what had happened, with a few details omitted. He insisted Dean take a week to help Sam work through Jessica's death before telling him to get some rest. When Dean hung up the phone he glanced over at Cas, who was still leaning on the counter, watching him and trying not to be obvious about it. Maybe it was the exhaustion but he felt more at ease with the other man than he had that morning. If he thought about it he knew it was partially because of how Cas had interacted with Sam. He'd been nothing but kind to his little brother and after watching him try to coax Sam from his shock he couldn't help but feel appreciative towards him.

"You stayin' here?" Dean asked suddenly.

Cas looked up, surprise flickering in his blue eyes. "Is that alright?"

Dean shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant. "Yeah. Couch is obviously taken but that chair across from it reclines." He paused, frowning thoughtfully, then "Wait, no. I'll take the chair. I should be there when he wakes up. Go ahead and crash on the bed, Carmen won't be home until around eight and I'll be up by then."

Dean didn't wait to see what Cas would say, instead he rushed out of the kitchen and into the living room. Though he wasn't absolutely sure why, or maybe he just didn't want to think about why, he'd felt suddenly uncomfortable as soon as he'd told Cas to take his bed. It wasn't like they were going to be in it together! It would just be Castiel...in his sheets, on his pillow, leaving a bit of himself in a place only he and Carmen had shared. He felt abruptly flushed and to distract himself he reclined the chair and went to the bathroom closet to find a spare sheet.

To get to the bathroom Dean had to pass the bedroom. As he went by he saw Cas standing by the edge of the bed. His shoes were sitting neatly by the door, along with his socks, and for some reason Dean became focused on his bare feet. The half blood was wiggling his toes in the carpet in an agitated sort of way while he stared down at the bed with an unreadable expression. As Dean watched he slowly climbed onto the bed, clothes and all, and laid face down on top of the covers. When he buried his face in Dean's pillow the man felt another overwhelming sense of discomfort and fled.

That night Dean dreamed. He was still in his house, standing in the doorway to his bedroom, watching Cas sleep. Dean felt distant, detached, and the feeling let him walk forward until he was standing beside the bed. He reached out and touched Castiel's hair, noting vaguely that it was soft but in need of a shower. He left his hand there a moment, then trailed it down over the sleeping man's neck and shoulders. All the while he wondered at how right it felt, just to touch him, with no agenda in mind except to feel.

The half blood murmured something in his sleep and rolled over. Dean froze for a moment, then reached up and touched the place where Cas had spiked his hair. He could feel the stiffness of the gel holding it in place, which felt strange after the softness at the back.

"Damn it," Dean murmured suddenly. He let his hand continue downwards, a strange need now driving his actions. When his fingers trailed over Castiel's face, when the other man leaned into him in his sleep, something stirred inside him, something that terrified him to the point that he flung himself from the dream and woke up, sharply. For several moments he lay there, eyes closed, telling himself to calm down. When he opened them the clock told him it was 6:45.

Sam was lying on his back on the couch, staring up blankly at the ceiling. As Dean sat up he saw his little brother flinch and wondered if he was remembering. When he stood and Sam still didn't move it became apparent that he was doing more than remembering; eyes that had seemed blank at first glance were actually frozen in distant terror. He flinched again violently as Dean approached and a soft, choked sound came from his throat. He was trapped in the memory, from the looks of it living it again as vividly as though it were still happening. Dean hesitated to reach out, uncertain whether the contact would help bring him back or damage him. He didn't know anything about psychological shock and it made him feel helpless.

"Dean? What's wrong?"

Startled, Dean jumped and twisted his head over his shoulder. Castiel was standing just outside the shadows of the hall that led back to the bedroom. His hair was rumpled from sleep and his eyes were still half closed, yet even through thick lashes Dean could see his concern. "What's wrong?" He repeated.

"Sam," Dean answered. He didn't bother to ask Cas how he knew something was wrong. "He's awake but he's stuck in the memory, I think. Can you help him?"

Immediately, Cas came forward and knelt beside the couch. "I don't know," he murmured, his voice reflecting the helplessness that Dean felt. "I can try."

Dean nodded, almost frantically. "Try." He paused, then added quietly. "Please."

Cas was lifting his hand to do just that when Amor stepped into view, seemingly out of thin air, behind the couch. Before either man could so much as react he had leaped nimbly over the back of the couch and laid a hand across Sam's eyes, his own gaze held in a tight mask of calm. "It's over, Sam," he murmured. "Come back." He glanced at Dean, who saw a sheen of tears in the barely controlled gaze. "Dean's worried, Sam. Will you come out and tell him you're alright?"

Sam shifted. His eyes blinked suddenly, furiously, before he sat up as though startled. Amor let his hand fall to cover one of Sam's larger ones but said nothing, just watched as Sam's eyes sought out his brother.

"Sammy?" Dean reached out and put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "You in there?"

Slowly, Sam nodded. "Yeah," He murmured. "I'm here."

Dean didn't ask if he was okay. He wasn't going to be okay for months, if not longer. "You hungry?" He asked, almost hoping he was just so he could do something.

Sam shook his head. "No," he answered shortly. He hung his head and said nothing further.

A hand suddenly slipped into Dean's and began to pull him away. At first he resisted, not the grip in his hand but the direction in which it was taking him. Castiel squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture and smiled wanely, jerking his head towards the kitchen, then towards Amor, who was stroking Sam's hand and talking quietly, too quietly for them to hear him. Dean didn't understand but he let the half blood lead him to the other room until they were out of sight of the pair.

"Dad can help him more than we can," Castiel explained when Dean turned to stare at him questioningly. "At least right now."

Dean became suddenly aware of the fact that their hands were still entwined. Embarrassedly, he tugged his arm away, though he did not step back from Cas. "Okay. Why?"

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest, his uncomfortable blue eyes cast towards the floor. Dean knew it was because he had pulled away and for the first time he felt a distant flicker of guilt. "Because he's an Angel," Castiel said. "Because his powers are all based on emotion, love. He can help Sam at a level that we can't."

Dean stared at him skeptically. He leaned around the doorway until he could see his brother, still sitting there with his head hung. Amor was still kneeling in front of him only now he had both of Sam's hands in his and his eyes were closed. He leaned back and stared hard at Castiel until the half blood began to fidget.

"It's more than that, isn't it?"

"I..." Castiel sighed and shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I think so."

Amor poked his head into the kitchen moments later, his eyes hopefully expectant. He let out a sigh when he apparently didn't see what he'd wanted to and let the rest of his body follow his head inside. "He's...well, he's not alright but he is, if you know what I mean. As alright as he can be." He cast an exasperated expression at Dean. "You're an idiot," he said with the same cheerfulness he had used before.

"Dad," Cas admonished with quiet amusement.

"Well he is!" Amor cried, waving his hands pointlessly in Dean's direction while the man just stood there, stiffly, unsure how to react. "Oh, but I suppose it's not his fault." He sighed somewhat dramatically and leaned back against the wall, his expression abruptly tired.

"What were you doing while you were gone?" Castiel asked. He side stepped towards Dean and touched his arm lightly. The man looked up and saw Cas flick his eyes towards Amor before rolling them and smiling. Dean found himself smiling back a little and even chuckled quietly, understanding the silent message. The half blood wasn't apologizing for Amor, simply relaying that mixture of embarrassment and fondness most children had for their parents.

"Checking in with the others," Amor responded. The weariness in his expression became more evident in the hard frown that twisted his lips. "Cas...there's something you should know. Some of us, the ones I've gathered, we've...we've stopped following orders."

Dean frowned and glanced at the other man. Cas looked shocked, which he took to mean that this was something unheard of. "What are you doing, then?"

Amor laughed, though it wasn't a happy laugh. "We're rebelling, I suppose. Something isn't right, Castiel. The Archangels are speaking for a God I don't think they can hear anymore. They're trying to take over. We're still using our powers but we're going on instinct like we used to in the beginning. We've all hidden ourselves and we've been trying to use that to our advantage but so far we haven't found out anything more about Azazael or what he's trying to do with the children. We don't even know which Angels we can trust outside of ourselves."

"Have you told them about us?" Cas asked.

Amor shook his head. "No. They know I'm working 'on a lead' and that's it. Oh...oh god. I'm getting suspicious!" The Cherub looked positively mortified by this, which Dean found almost funny, if only because of how round his eyes got.

"Is that weird?" Dean asked, because he just couldn't help himself. Who didn't feel suspicious sometimes?

"For me it is," Amor replied with a sigh. "I have this child-like tendency to trust everybody."

Out of the corner of his eye Dean saw Castiel nodding almost frantically and found himself smiling again.

"Dad, I need to talk to you for a moment." Cas turned towards Dean with an apologetic expression. "Privately, if that's alright."

What the hell, was he asking permission? For a second Dean didn't know how to react, until he realized that Castiel was trying to make sure Dean knew he wasn't being excluded, it was just a Father and Son thing. He could understand that, he'd had a few of those moments himself. "Yeah, it's fine," Dean said with a shrug that looked more careless than he felt. "I'll go check on Sam."

He meant to do just that, yet at the last second he held back by the doorway and listened instead. Guilt tried to make an appearance but curiosity beat it back with a large enough stick that he was able, at least for now, to ignore it.

"No!" He heard Amor cry. He heard a thud, which he decided was probably Amor hiding his face on the counter. He seemed like the type of person to do that.

"Dad." Castiel's tone was almost accusing. "You said you'd explain."

"I know. I know I just...I can't. Not yet." There was a shifting, likely Amor standing.

"Dad," Cas said again.

"Not never! Just not yet!" The Cherub sounded as guilty as Dean knew he would feel later for listening in.

Castiel sighed quietly. "Alright. Later."

"I promise," Amor said almost dejectedly. Then, with a sudden shift to brightness that Dean was certain no human could have managed, he announced loudly, "Dean is warming up to you!"

Dean felt his face heat even as he admitted to himself that it was true. He almost let himself think about it but when he did he remembered the kiss, the closeness, and it overwhelmed him. Letting Sam be his escape, he rushed into the living room, leaving behind him the thoughts he wasn't ready for.

Sam was standing in the open doorway, staring with an empty expression down an equally empty street. Dean hesitated, uncertain whether to approach him or leave him to his thoughts, or lack of thought as his gaze suggested.

"Dean." Sam turned his head and looked straight at him, his eyes alarmingly empty.

"Yeah?" Dean took a few steps forward, his tone cautious. "You still there, Sammy?"

Something flickered in the empty gaze, something hot and furious. "Yeah," Sam said quietly. "I'm here."

"Okay." Dean took a few more steps, bringing him within touching distance of his little brother. He lifted an arm and laid it carefully on Sam's shoulder, his eyes wide with unconcealed concern.

"Dean." That heat flared brighter, hotter, and Dean felt dread begin to build in his stomach as some part of him began to understand what it was. "I'm going to kill him, Dean." It was said so calmly, so matter of factly, that Dean thought for a wild second that he was kidding, or that he'd maybe gone crazy. Perhaps he had gone crazy.

"What? The yellow eyed demon?" Dean scrambled for something, anything, to say that would redirect his brother's thoughts. "Come on, Sammy. How would we fight a demon?"

The heat in Sam's eyes had flared to a point that it could be clearly defined as rage, uncontrollable, maddening rage. "We don't have to do anything. I do."

Disbelief flared in Dean at those words. He started to open his mouth to say that was ridiculous, whatever they were doing they were doing it together, but he never got the words out. Right before his eyes, without any warning of any kind, Sam vanished.

... * ...

"Sam's gone!"

The half blood whirled around to face an equally frightened and pissed off Dean. Amor started from where he'd been leaning against the counter, his expression showing surprise and his own flash of fear. "How?"

"I dunno, he vanished!" Dean growled. The anger was taking over his fear, as it had when Castiel had first appeared. "I was talking to him and he disappeared!" He pointed violently at Cas, who almost took a step back from the anger once again being directed at him. "You said they couldn't find him!"

"They can't, not unless he told them," Amor said before the half blood could reply. "It could be one of his powers manifesting. He may appear again at any moment."

Cold dread formed in the pit of Castiel's stomach, making him shake his head to deny Amor's explanation before he'd even finished it. "No," he murmured. He looked away from Dean as he began to shake, unable to look at him as he realized what had happened. "It was my fault. When I put him to sleep...I made him unaware of his dreams. If Azazael was able to enter one, he could have made Sam tell him where he was without Sam's awareness."

Amor shook his head, more a frantic gesture of hope than an outright denial of Castiel's reasoning. "He would have taken him sooner if that were the case."

"Not necessarily. Sam might not have told him exactly where he was," Castiel pointed out. "He may have had to search for him a bit."

Fearfully, Castiel glanced towards Dean. The man was leaning against the doorway, one hand over his eyes, hiding whatever emotions remained there. "Dean?" He asked carefully.

"Did you know that was going to happen?" Dean asked without lifting his hand. "Did you know Sam wouldn't be in control of his dreams?"

"No," Castiel said immediately. "I didn't know. I didn't even know I could do what I did. I knew he'd be unaware but...I should have thought of it."

Dean drew in a deep, slow breath. When he released it he let his hand fall. In place of the anger was acceptance and what might have been determination, thought Castiel couldn't say that for certain. "It's not your fault," Dean said finally, his tone suggesting he was convincing himself of that as much as Cas.

The response left Castiel weak with relief but he put the feeling aside. It wasn't important right now. "Dad, do you have any idea at all where Azazael would be now?"

Amor shook his head helplessly. "We haven't been able to find out. I don't know where he would have taken Sam and I can't find him since we hid him from the Angels." He hesitated suddenly and looked away, fear dancing sharply through the eyes Castiel had inherited. "There...there's another way I might find him."

"How?" Dean stepped away from the doorway and towards him, the word, his eyes, his very movements displaying sudden, desperate hope.

"I..." Amor looked away. "I'm...connected to him."

Castiel frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It doens't matter," Amor said quickly. "I just am, and it might mean I can find him. But we can't go yet."

"Why not?" Dean fairly growled.

The Cherub sighed and turned to face the angered man. "I have to give you the basics," He said.

"The basics of what?"

Amor exchanged a glance with Castiel. The half blood understood, though he felt sad for Dean and the burden he was about to take on as Amor shifted his gaze back to the man.

"The basics of being a Hunter."
- 6
- 7
- 8
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

The Keys to Destiny