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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
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"Dean!"

The man mumbled something inaudible into his pillow. He lifted a hand and waved it in the general direction of the voice, as dismissively as his sleep heavy limbs would allow. A soft, feminine hand came to rest on his shoulder. The mattress shifted as another's weight was added.

"Wake up, Dean."

"Mmph!" Dean protested. He nuzzled further into the pillow, ignoring her voice, ignoring the world. There was something on his pillow case, a scent he couldn't identify. It smelled a bit like vanilla, he thought. No, that wasn't quite right, it was too...spicey...for vanilla. No, that wasn't right, either...maybe it was some kind of flower?

"Dean, wake up," Carmen coaxed. Her hand kneaded at his shoulder, which should have felt good, but instead it distracted him. What was this smell?

The hand on his shoulder stopped it's massaging motions and shook him once, sharply. "Okay, seriously, you lump, get up. There's some weird stuff going on in the living room and no one seems to want to tell me what happened to Sam."

Dean ignored her. A hand came up and drifted across the pillow, as though the added touch would somehow help him identify the smell. It was good, whatever it was. He took a deep breath of it and wondered if he could just stay here today. Just stay and drift, half asleep and surrounded by this scent...

"Did you get a new perfume?" Dean murmured, his voice muffled by the fabric he'd buried his nose in. "'Cause it smells really great."

The hand began to run up and down his arm, then moved into his hair. Normally, this was something Dean enjoyed, but today something about it felt...off. Not wrong, just...strange. "No, nothing new. Oh, but your friend Cas mentioned that you let him sleep in here last night, maybe it's something he wears?"

Just like that, Dean was awake. Not only awake but up and at the edge of the bed, his eyes wide and breath coming in sudden, short pants of panic. He'd been nuzzling into Castiel's scent! Not only that, he'd been enjoying it immensely!

"Dean?" Carmen slid up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Conflicting reactions warred within Dean; while part of him wanted to reach around and cling to her and the safety she represented, another wanted her off. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," Dean answered hoarsely.

Now that the haze of sleep had lifted the last three days poured back into his unwilling mind. Hands rose to cover his eyes and he wished it were that easy to block out the world. What had happened? How had he come so far from the Dean he'd been a week ago? Was Sam alright, wherever he was?

Where was Cas?

The final question drove him to his feet. Carmen let him go, watching his retreating back with a mixture of confusion and hurt that Dean never saw.

"Cas!" Dean called as he stepped out into the hall. He heard voices in the living room and headed towards them.

"Dean?" the half blood met him at the end of the hall. His too-blue eyes were tired and half closed and in his hand he held a gallon of what looked like plain water, though Dean suspected it was anything but what it seemed. Castiel and his Dad had been bringing in strange things since before he'd fallen asleep.

"I..." Dean trailed away; he didn't know why he'd called Cas. "I...didn't know where you were," he finished lamely.

Lifting his free hand, Castiel rubbed it vigorously across his tired eyes. He looks like a sleepy three year old, Dean thought with a small smile.

"That would make me happy if I didn't feel as though I were going to pass out at any moment," Castiel murmured as he let his hand drop. The tiny smile on his face said it made him happy anyway and Dean couldn't find it in himself to be angry about it, only somewhat apprehensive. "I think we have everything."

"Okay." Dean found himself striding forward and reaching for the half blood before he could think his actions through. He let himself take Cas by the arm and began to lead him, without thinking, towards his room.

Carmen! His mind screamed as he took the first step.

"Crap," Dean muttered. He changed his course and instead led an unresisting Cas into the living room. "Go to sleep," he said gruffly. "I don't need both of you to learn. Have you been awake all night?"

Cas nodded as he let Dean take the water from him. It was set on the floor before the man guided the half blood down onto the couch. "I didn't want to waste time," Castiel murmured. He fell over backwards, suddenly boneless. Dean shifted him around until he was lying more comfortably along the back of the couch. "What are you going to tell Carmen? She was a little...disturbed...by the items on your table."

Dean shook his head. He took a blanket from the couch, an old patchwork his Mother had made for him when he was small, and threw it over the half blood. "I don't know. She'll sleep for a while, I'll...I'll deal with it later. Go to sleep."

Cas nodded mutely. He drew the blanket up under his chin and in a matter of seconds his eyes were closed and his breathing had evened out. Instead of leaving Dean stood there, tense with the nerves making his chest feel tight and his throat constrict. He had to know. There was so little room for doubt, but he had to know for certain. He watched the half blood's breathing for several long moments, until he was absolutely sure he was asleep. Then he leaned down, so that his nose was mere inches from the other man's neck, and took a deep whiff.

That smell he'd been enjoying so much before invaded his nostrils immediately, stronger and sweeter and so very, painfully real. Oddly enough, Dean's nervousness vanished. Instead of panicking he felt a sudden, odd sense of calm. Had he snapped? He'd heard of people going very calm when they first snapped.

Sam, he thought. Focus on Sam.

Amor was waiting for him in the kitchen. A variety of items were laid out on his table, nothing, he would admit, that he'd been expecting. He'd honestly thought that he would see more weapons but there was only one, a knife in the center of the pile that looked like it was made of silver. The water was still on the floor by Cas, he remembered. Then again, it probably didn't matter. Not yet, anyway. Not with the sheer volume of learning material staring him in the face.

"You okay?" Amor asked.

Dean glanced up at him. Before now he hadn't really looked at Amor. He looked so much like Castiel, he thought, or rather Castiel looked so much like him. The eyes, especially, the too-blue, too-emotional gaze that refused to look away. It seemed strange that a creature who'd been alive longer than he could comprehend could look so innocent. Was it because of the angel thing?

"Dean?" Amor took a cautious step forward. He laid a hand on Dean's shoulder and, when Dean didn't react badly, took another step closer. "You're going to get mad at me if I hug you, aren't you?"

Instead of agreeing, Dean found himself chuckling quietly. "What's with your obsession with hugging?"

Amor shrugged. "Cherub thing. We like to be close to people. If you think I'm bad you should see some of my friends, they're SO much worse. And naked. Always naked. They keep forgetting that makes humans uncomfortable. Besides, you look like you need a hug! Cas certainly needed one earlier!"

Very abruptly, the cherub shut his mouth and turned away. "Never mind, you don't care about that," he muttered.

Anger at this immediate assumption blazed hotly through Dean's chest. "The hell I don't!" He snarled. The intensity of his reaction shocked him. He took a step back from Amor and turned away, staring through the kitchen doorway and into the living room. "I care," he murmured more quietly. "I...shit. Can we just do this?"

The man turned back just in time to see a grin vanish from Amor's face.

You bastard! Dean thought vehemently; the cherub had played him. He wanted to be angry, he really did, but he honestly couldn't blame Amor. How could someone blame a Father for watching out for their son?

"You can talk to me, you know," Amor announced suddenly as Dean took a seat at the table. "I won't say anything to Cas." He sat down across from Dean, his eyes intent, as though he were trying to speak to the man through his gaze as much as his voice. "I want us to be friends, Dean. I really like you, and I think you'd be very good to my son, if you'd only pull your head out of your very human ass and see what's right in front of you!"

Amor's voice grew louder and louder as he spoke, until he was leaning forward, hands braced on the table, eyes lit with an anger so sudden and intense that it was too bright to live. It flickered out almost instantly. An expression of complete mortification made the angel's eyes go wide as he slapped a hand over his mouth and abruptly began to giggle, as though he knew of no other way to release the vast energy his short fury had generated. "I'm sorry! That sounded strange, didn't it? I didn't mean to yell at you. It's not your fault you're human. I'm sorry."

Dean sat there, stunned, staring at the angel with an expression that suggested he might have grown several extra heads.

"Teaching!" Amor practically shrieked, gesturing wildly towards the items on the table. "Ah, I mean...yes, learning now. Teaching. Remember you can talk to me if you want."

Dean continued to stare at him.

"Salt!" Amor threw a cloth bag at Dean so that it hit him square in the face. It slid almost without notice into the still stunned man's lap. Amor frowned, looking very much like a disapproving parent. "Must work on your reflexes," he muttered.

"Friends, then?" Dean said suddenly. He had decided to deal with the situation by pretending to have missed the second part of Amor's sentence completely.

Fortunately, Amor latched onto the peace offering the second it was within reach. "Yes! Friends! Now, get the salt off your lap and hand me that poker."

For the next several hours Dean absorbed more information than he'd ever received in his life. Iron repelled ghosts and they couldn't cross salt. Neither, apparently, could demons. Holy water could reveal the demon hidden within a possessed human because it hurt them so much they could not control their reaction to it. Silver killed werewolves and beheading killed vampires. The list went on, and on, and on...

It was nearly two in the afternoon when they finally stopped to take a break, though Dean was reluctant to do so. Sammy was out there somewhere, possibly hurt, definitely in danger. He wanted to go now, but Amor insisted they had to stay until Dean was prepared. What are the chances I'm gonna bump into a werewolf, Dean had wondered. Why not just tell me about the demons and be done with it.

Because, an obnoxious voice in the back of his mind replied, you're gonna need every scrap of info you can get. Besides, this is what you'll be doing now.

Dean wanted to tell the voice to shut up and go away. Instead, he realized with a chill that it was right. There was no way he could possess this kind of knowledge and not do something with it.

"What do you want to eat?" Amor asked suddenly. Dean started; he hadn't even realized Amor had moved. He looked up and found the angel standing with the fridge door open, his eyes roving about the different items with curiosity.

"Nothing," Dean replied; he'd lost his appetite the moment Sam had vanished.

"You need to eat," Amor pressed. "You're no good to Sam half dead. What do you want to eat?"

Heaving a sigh, Dean glanced over the food in his fridge. None of it looked appetizing, so he told Amor to make him whatever he wanted. He would eat it, he told himself, if only for Sammy's sake.

Within moments Amor had whipped up two sandwiches. He put them on paper plates he found on the counter and handed one to Dean before he plopped back down in his chair and began to eat with vigor. Angel's needed to eat? Dean found the question intriguing enough that he had to ask.

"No, we don't need to," Amor answered. "But I just love food! Besides, it seemed odd to make you sit there and eat by yourself."

"You're odd," Dean muttered as he lifted his sandwich. He couldn't contain the quick grin that flashed across his face.

Amor chuckled. "I know. I'm even odd by Angel standards!"

For a moment the two fell silent. Had it not been for the bizarre items strewn across his table Dean might have been able to pretend, if only for a second, that this was just a normal lunch with a buddy. Instead he found himself going over and over the new information crammed into his mind, which eventually led to the sleeping half blood on his couch. He did have questions, he realized, that he had been unable to bring himself to ask Castiel. He gazed thoughtfully across the table at the Cherub, eating steadily without tasting any of it. Amor was willing to talk to him, he thought. Without the intensity that Dean could see in Cas's eyes every time he so much as glanced at him.

"What exactly does it mean that we're soulmates?" Dean blurted, before he could lose his nerve.

Amor's head snapped up immediately from his food, his eyes going wide with surprise and delight. "Oh! You're going to talk!" He dropped his sandwich and leaned forward slightly, then seemed to think better of it and sat back instead, giving Dean some extra space. "Well, soulmates themselves aren't an uncommon thing," Amor began. "To be honest it is far too difficult to explain to someone with such a human mind. But I can tell you this; it is very, very rare for soulmates to actually connect. I don't mean in a physical way, necessarily, I mean in the way you and Cas have. Some soulmates will meet in this life and feel closer than they ever have with anyone else but that's as far as it goes. You two have melded on every level except a physical one. And you accepted it without hesitation, or Castiel would never have been able to enter your dreams, nor you his. Were you to unite in that last way you would be...well...I can't even describe it. You would have to experience it." Amor paused. He waved his hands about helplessly before continuing. "I suppose what I'm trying to say is that while your soul has accepted Cas completely, your heart hasn't. Dean Winchester, the current manifestation of your soul, has only partially accepted him. So I suppose I can't even tell you what it means because you haven't decided to risk it."

Risk it.

Dean felt the strangest sensation then, as though his calm had shattered, yet he didn't feel panic. Nor, he noticed, did he feel empty. He felt...suspended, caught between warring emotions he found he could barely comprehend. Was it his heart and his soul, fighting to decide? The thought was so bizarre to him that he immediately put it from his mind, pursuing another question as a means of distraction.

"Okay, at one point I think I saw him, Cas I mean, when he was in trouble, and later I was in trouble and I swear I felt him. What was that?"

If Amor had been delighted before he was ecstatic now. "That was a Spirit Meld! It happens between two connected souls as a form of protection. I think you'll find that when...or if...you accept Cas completely you'll be able to do so much more than that. And no, it wouldn't have happened before because you hadn't formed your connection yet."

Dean shut his mouth; could he read minds or something?

"Yes," Amor replied with a nod. "I try not to, it seems to bother people, except Cas, he understands. I like calling him Cas, I wonder why I never thought of that before?"

Very abruptly, Amor stood up. His expression morphed from excited to serious so quickly that Dean wasn't just startled; he was almost afraid. The angel came around the table to stand before him and for just a second the man could see his wings, pure and white, stretched out impossibly far on either side of him.

"Try?" he whispered. "Just try, Dean. If there is even the smallest spark in your heart, let it catch fire. Trust me, you cannot let this slip through your fingers!"

There were tears in the angel's eyes. Dean felt a shock pass through him; somehow, they looked indescribably wrong on Amor's face. Without thinking Dean stood up and searched for something to wipe them away. When he could find nothing he let himself reach out and brush them roughly away with the back of his hand. Had Amor been just another guy Dean wouldn't have even imagined trying this. As it was...well, his life had strayed so far from anything normal that this was just one more thing. One more crazy, supernatural thing added to his already over flowing plate. Did it count as supernatural? He supposed it did, he thought with a somewhat crazed chuckle. After all, it was an ANGEL'S face he'd just wiped those tears from.

"What happened to you?" Dean found himself asking. Had he meant to ask? He didn't think so.

Amor shook his head. He turned away and Dean heard him take a deep, shaky breath. "Later. When we've found Sam. He needs to know, too, if he doesn't already."

The angel turned, looking more or less his usual self. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to see that. Do you want to rest? You look tired. I know you just slept but what we need to do next is much more physical. You should rest. Go rest. I'm...going to go check on something. Might be a lead. Bye!"

The last was said so desperately that Dean didn't even try to protest. What was the point? Clearly he wasn't going anywhere until the angel felt he'd been properly prepared and there was no way he could find Sammy on his own. So he took the angel's advice, despite his reluctance, and wandered into the living room. He collapsed into the chair across from Cas and was out in a matter of seconds.

...*...

The scene hadn't changed. Castiel knew he was fast asleep, yet he remained in Dean's house, on his couch, only the room seemed a bit brighter, with the exception of a small, gray cloud, laced through with thin lines of white, hanging by the chair across from him. Though he had no idea why, Cas had the strangest feeling the cloud was doubt, though the white lines were a mystery to him. When Dean appeared beneath it that feeling was only enforced.

"Hey," Dean murmured, seeming not at all surprised to see him. "Sleepin' well?"

"I think so," Cas replied. "What have you learned?"

Dean let out an odd sound that was somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh. "A lot, man. Apparently whatever comes next is physical, so I'm guessing it's hand to hand and stuff, so Amor told me to rest."

"I could teach you that," Castiel offered; it was something he'd been doing since he was young, a drive that at the time he had not understood. He thought he understood it much better now. "Or I could help, at least."

"Yeah. That'd be good," Dean muttered distractedly. "I talked to him. Amor. About us."

Cas froze. His eyes flicked to Dean's down-turned face with a mixture of apprehension and hope; he'd said 'us.' Did that mean he'd been thinking about it? "What was said?"

Dean shrugged. "I asked what it meant to be soulmates. He said he couldn't tell me, I had to find out. I..." Dean paused. Then, so abruptly that it seemed his head should have snapped right off, he looked up and straight into Castiel's eyes. "I..."

Fear flooded the wide, bright gaze. Cas held perfectly still and kept silent, terrified that if he so much as batted an eyelash Dean would lose his nerve and back away again. Instead, the man cleared his throat and continued to stare steadfastly into the half blood's eyes.

"I...shit, Cas, I think maybe...maybe I want..."

Castiel opened his eyes.

"No!" He cried aloud, and then slapped a hand over his mouth for fear of waking Dean.

Feeling irrationally short of breath, Cas stood and ripped off his shirt, leaving only the white tee beneath it. He tugged at the neckline, as though the extra space would somehow allow more air into his lungs. Had he really been about to say that he wanted to try? The very thought sent flashes of excitement so powerful through his body that he felt himself burning. He tugged again at the neckline as his breath came in short bursts; he had to calm down! It was possible Dean would pretend he'd never said it when he woke up, would claim not to remember. So he made himself sit. He took several deep, slow breaths and let just a bit of his glow out, let the light comfort and calm him until his breathing had returned to normal.

It was that moment that Dean chose to wake. His eyes settled on the faint glow surrounding the half blood and a small, tired smile came to his lips.

"You know, that's actually kind of neat."

Sluggishly, Dean sat up. He set his elbows against his knees and continued to gaze sleepily at the bluish-white light. Had he intended to wake, the half blood wondered, or had he forcefully dragged himself from sleep to follow Cas?

"What were you going to say?" Cas asked cautiously, trying his best to ignore how his heart rate once again began to pick up speed.

Dean blinked. A yawn escaped him and he reached up with one hand to rub his palm vigorously across his eyes. "Give me a minute," he muttered. "How much can you glow, anyway?"

Well, he wasn't denying anything, Castiel thought hopefully. He remained cautiously optimistic as he let his light shine out clearer, until it wavered on the edge of dangerous. It made his wings vibrantly clear as they spread out behind him, so long that they almost disappeared through the walls. It was lucky they weren't physical, he thought, because if they had been he would have broken a couple lamps and knocked several pictures from their places by now.

"Wow," Dean murmured, his eyes now wide awake and focused with something very close to awe. "Can you fly?"

"Angels can," Cas replied, unable to keep the wistful tone from his voice when Dean spoke of one of his greatest desires. "I can't."

"Why do you have 'em, then?"

Slowly, Castiel let the light fade until it had receded back inside himself. Dean blinked several times and squinted, as though the room had become dark in the absence of the glow of angelic grace. "The wings aren't just for flight," Cas explained. "They're...almost an angel's essence. Their power. It's difficult to explain, I don't even fully understand it."

Dean frowned, a thoughtful expression that furrowed his brow and made him look, in Castiel's opinion, absolutely adorable. "So...do angels have souls, then?"

The half blood almost laughed; he'd posed that very question to his Father when he was a child. "Angels are souls," he replied. "But...different than human souls."

There was a pause as Dean continued to stare absently in the general area Cas's glow had spread. Cas's hands began to fidget in his lap, his fingers playing nervously against each other until he could no longer stand it. "It's been a minute," he murmured. He couldn't wait, no matter how selfish he felt for it. He had to know.

"Yeah." Dean stood up. "It has."

...*...

I think maybe I want to try.

That was what Dean had meant to say before Cas had abruptly vanished, pulled so swiftly back to his conscious mind that the man had been unable to complete the sentence he'd been stumbling over. And now, looking down at the half blood staring up at him with such terrified hope, he knew for certain. He didn't just want to try. He had to.

Purposely, Dean sat closer to Castiel than he would have before. Much closer. He saw a flare in the half blood's eyes, something so intense that his first instinct was to look away. Instead, he made himself meet that gaze, made himself feel the not at all unpleasant shiver it sent zinging down his spine.

"Dean?" Castiel asked carefully.

The man said nothing. No matter what his very human mind said, it wasn't going to hurt him to try this. Just feel, he thought as he slowly lifted his hand. Do what the feelings tell you to. It can't be that hard.

Carefully, Dean laid his hand over Castiel's. The touch sent a slight shock through his body, a little, shivering thrill that forced an involuntary shudder from him. Never once had he reacted to Carmen like that. The realization sent a cold rush of terror seeping through his system, yet he didn't stop, because it wasn't fear of what he was doing. It was the fear of what it meant.

"Dean?" Cas murmured again. Wide eyes were locked desperately on their joined hands, fear making the blue gaze overly bright and wild. Was it fear to hope, or fear of what was happening? Dean found his resolve wavering but sternly told his own anxiety to go fuck itself. It had to be fear to hope, it had to be, because Cas had been too resolved and too damn patient with the whole thing for it to be fear of what Dean was doing now. Or at least, that was what he hoped, because he had no idea how much longer he could hold on to the thin line of his courage.

Try something else, Dean told himself firmly. He let his fingers trail upwards. Cas had taken off his shirt at some point, leaving only a white tee. The bare arm under his touch was so different from what he was used to. Carmen was soft, slim, almost delicate. The skin was soft, though dusted with more hair than he was used to, but underneath were lean, hard muscles. Though slight of build for a man, Cas didn't look like he would break easily. Touching him like this should have felt strange. Instead, it kept sending those little thrills through him and somehow he knew it had nothing to do with the body, not exactly. It was the person inside it that made it attractive.

Attractive.

"Oh god," Dean whispered brokenly.

Cas's eyes finally rose to meet his. They were on fire with barely controlled emotion, that stubborn fear being one of them, though the hope it had been hiding now burned more brightly beneath the surface. "What do you need me to do?" he asked quietly. His voice was shockingly calm.

Though he didn't know why, Dean realized he'd been expecting to be pushed once he'd given any sign that he was ready to try this. The willingness to be patient, to give what was needed, even in the face of the desire so clearly written on Castiel's face, gave him the courage he needed to continue.

"Hold still?" Dean asked. "Just...just let me..."

Cas nodded. His hands gripped his knees and Dean realized he was shaking, yet he didn't move. For just a second Dean felt selfish but he fought it back; there would be time later, he thought. Now, he needed to get passed this hurdle.

Dean's fingers continued up Cas's arm and across his bicep. Castiel's eyes flicked back and forth between his face and his hand, as though uncertain what to focus on. He watched as the hand ran slowly along his shoulder, glanced against his throat. Fingertips trailed gently up and across his jaw before moving to cup his cheek. Unable to deny the urge, Cas let his eyes slip closed as he nuzzled into Dean's palm. It was a touch similar to hugging, a form of closeness the cherubs craved, and if the look in his eyes before they'd closed said anything Cas had been unable to fight back his reaction to it. Instead of dissuading him Dean heard himself gasp. The half blood looked...stunning. Suspended between fierce desire and a kind of serenity Dean had never seen before. Though his hands were still tight on his knees his face was calm and relaxed, his breath warm against Dean's palm. The man felt an overwhelming sense of fondness swelling in his chest, making him smile slightly despite the fact that his heart rate had just picked up more than a few notches.

Just one more test, he thought.

Sliding his hand around, Dean cupped the back of Castiel's head and held him there. When he began to lean forward with aching slowness his heart tried to beat it's way out of his chest, yet it wasn't all fear. In fact, most of it wasn't. It was excitement. Every nerve in his body seemed to come alive with the knowledge of what he was about to do, while his ethereal heart seemed as calm as his physical one was frantic. He could practically feel his soul singing, which was a strange thing because he was fairly certain he'd never really been aware of it before.

"Dean," Cas murmured suddenly, roughly. He locked eyes with the other man, who was now only inches away. The blue of his eyes seemed impossible. Dean was certain he'd never seen such a rich shade of the color in his life. "All you have to say is stop."

Just like that, the last of Dean's reservations melted away.

When Dean's lips hesitantly touched Castiel's it was nothing like the dream. It was so much more, because this time it was Dean making the first move, Dean who was fully aware of exactly what was happening. That sense of right, of belonging, surged through him in intoxicating waves, driving him to deepen the kiss, to delve further. His lips parted just a bit and he felt Castiel's do the same, though he made no further moves. He let Dean lead, let him set the boundaries, and when he pulled away he did not try to follow, though the tight expression on his face said the effort of holding himself in check was too painful to describe.

Letting his arms fall away from Cas, Dean leaned back against the couch and brought his hands up to cover his eyes. He sat like that a moment, feeling Cas's intent gaze on him despite the fact that he could see nothing but black. When he let his hands drop the half blood was sitting exactly as he'd left him, hands still clenched on his knees, his eyes on fire as he fought to control himself. He's doing that for me, Dean thought.

"If there is even the smallest spark in your heart, let it catch fire."

"Cas?" Dean said softly. "I need you to go for a walk."
- 7
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The Keys to Destiny