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Fools Rush In

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Hospital, Cas quickly realised, was not Dean's favourite place. From the moment he'd woken, sweaty and shaking, from a nightmare he refused to discuss, he'd been on edge, more unsettled than Cas had ever seen him. He was doing his best to keep it under control, but the more staff came to visit them, the more obviously Dean telegraphed his discomfort; or at least, it was obvious to Cas. The day nurses, though, either didn't notice or didn't care, their cheerful-professional patter unaffected by the distress it elicited. Asked to fill out his insurance forms, Dean tensed, the fingers of his pen-hand twitching with every line. When a smiling woman came to change his dressings, he wouldn't meet Cas's gaze, staring fixedly at the far corner. Selfishly, part of Cas was grateful for this lack of eye contact. The rage that filled him on seeing Dean's injuries – blistering burns in place of lovebites; thin, scabbing cuts too shallow for stitching; the awful, raw lines of his stomach – was overpowering and unfamiliar, and not something he wanted his lover to see in him.

'How did you say this happened again?' the nurse asked dubiously, so tactless Cas could have throttled her.

'Crazy sex games,' said Dean, flatly. 'Next time, I'm buying a classy hooker.'

The nurse snorted, but didn't look up from her work; only Cas saw the muscle work in Dean's jaw, the way his shoulders hunched as she touched him, as though he were fighting the urge to pull away. It was agonising; Cas wanted to scream at her to get out, but it was a hospital, she was doing her job, and even if that hadn't mattered, he didn't know if Dean would thank him for it. So he waited, teeth clenched, until it was his turn to be poked and prodded, his vitals checked and a blood sample drawn. But for all that he'd overdosed, Cas felt fine; even his bruises were nearly gone, and as the nurse herself explained – as oblivious to his anger as to Dean's distress – it wasn't as though he'd taken heroin or bleach, something that could actually damage him. He still had a psych evaluation to pass, but physically, he was more or less in tact.

The moment she finally left, Cas walked around to Dean's side of the bed and sat beside him, waiting quietly for his lover to look up. All he wanted to do was hold him, but if there was one thing Cas understood, it was physical triggers: Dean was trembling, his knuckles as white as old jade where he gripped the mattress, and Cas knew, with an absolute, bone-deep certainty, that he shouldn't be touched until he was ready; until he'd collected himself.

Finally, after two full minutes, Dean exhaled and shook himself, glancing up at Cas like he was half-afraid the wouldn't be there.

'Hey,' said Cas, softly.

'Hey,' croaked Dean. He was rocking in place, lips parted as though the right words were jammed in his throat. 'How you feeling?' he finally asked, and it was so clearly not what he 'd been planning to say that, before Cas could answer, he blurted, 'I can't. Not here.'

'It's OK.'

Dean's head jerked up. 'No, it's not, Cas. This is so very far from OK, it's not even in the same hemisphere.'

'Dean –'

'God, we need to get out of here. I need to get out of here.'

'I know. We will.'

He made a strangled sound. 'Will you stop comforting me, please? I feel like a zoo animal.'

Cas fell silent, waiting again.

'I'm sorry,' Dean said. He rested his face in his hands. 'I'm sorry, Cas. I'm a mess today. Hell, I'm always a mess, but this is... messier.'

Cas stroked the backs of his knuckles. 'Yesterday morning, your abusive ex showed up and threatened you. In the afternoon, you were kidnapped and tortured, and in the evening, you came home to find me overdosed in the kitchen. I think you're allowed to be messy.'

'Our lives are not the lives of regular people, are they?'

'Regular people?' Cas pulled a face. 'Those exist?'

'I've heard rumours.' The barest glimmer of a smile. 'Maybe I should check Snopes, though.'

'Maybe you should.'

Dean took his hand, and Cas squeezed it gently. For a moment, they just sat together. Then, very quietly, Dean said, 'I figured it out, you know. Last night. When Meg was... when I was taken.'

'Figured what out?'

'Why I got kicked out of the army. How it happened.' He looked so far away, it seemed impossible they were still touching. 'I did get caught on purpose. Got Lassiter caught. All these years, I told myself I didn't know the truth, that I'd been too scared to think straight. And I was afraid, Cas. I was. But not of dying.' He took a shuddering breath. 'I just didn't know how else to make him stop.'

Slowly, Cas put his arms around Dean, and Dean leaned into him, warm and solid and real, and whispered, 'Please don't hurt me.'

Inwardly, Cas froze. 'I don't – I would never –'

'No.' Dean buried his face in Cas's shoulder, gripping the hem of his hospital gown. 'No, you don't understand. If I say – if I act like I want – if I ever ask you to hurt me, don't. Please, don't.'

'I won't,' said Cas, and now they were both shaking, both clinging to each other like they'd fallen off the edge of the world, and Cas thought, I will kill them. Anyone who ever hurt you, anyone who tries again, I'll kill them, I'll walk through fire for you, as he said out loud, 'I promise, I swear, you're safe with me,' and kissed his lover's cheek.

'Are you OK, though?' Dean asked, once his breathing had returned to normal.

'I am,' said Cas, and was startled to realise it was true. He felt like he'd come out the other side of something, as though the charcoal he'd been given had purged his system of more than just pills. Since the day he'd left the compound, it seemed, his whole adult life had been a process of katabasis, descending steadily into a hell he'd thought was bottomless, and empty except for himself. People had cared for him, but he'd never felt worthy of it, and either they'd given up on him, repelled by his awkward intensity, or else had died too soon, like John Aveline. He'd been starving, so hollowed out by want that he'd forgotten there were other ways to feel – and then Dean Winchester had moved in, with his stupid car and that smile like sunlight piercing stormclouds, and Cas had fallen so hard, so fast, it had utterly redefined his sense of gravity. Nobody else had ever made him feel as safe, as worthy, as loved , as Dean did, and while Cas had been wanted before, he'd never been truly needed; not the way Dean needed him, or the way he needed Dean.

This wasn't katabasis; not any more. It was anabasis, ascent into light, and just for a moment, Cas felt if his scars were truly wings, and not just a mockery of them.

All this flashed through his head in the time it took Dean to lift his own and ask, almost disbelievingly, 'You're sure?'

Cas pressed a kiss to his forehead. 'You saved me,' he said, simply. 'In every way that matters, you saved me. Dean, I –'

The phone rang; which is to say, Dean's mobile rang; which is to say, a tinny version of the opening chords of Back in Black started playing, because apparently Cas's lover was not above spending money on custom ringtones. Startled, they just stared at each other – and then they both burst out laughing. Cas almost doubled over, reduced to helpless paroxysms as Dean clutched his stomach, tears streaming down his cheeks, his helpless laughter punctuated by little gasps of pain.

'You look ridiculous,' Cas choked out, cackling like somebody's drunk uncle. 'God, just answer it, will you?'

'I'm trying!' Still laughing, Dean flopped back on the bed and finally fished the phone from his pocket, squinting at the screen. 'It's Anna! I'll put her on speaker.' He thumbed the button and gasped out, 'Anna! Thanks for the pizza! Cas is awake, he can hear you, too. How, uh, how's your morning?'

'Honestly? Not what I was expecting.'

And then, like a slap to the face, a second, familiar voice said, 'Hello, boys.'

 

*

 

Dean sat up so fast, he almost knocked Cas over. ' Crowley? '

'The very same.'

'It's OK, Dean,' added Anna, though she sounded more resigned than enthusiastic. 'I mean, for a given value of OK. Your buddy here shot me with a tranquilliser last night and dragged me to some dive motel with the ugliest wallpaper known to man, but apparently it's for my own safety, on account of how Meg wants a piece of me, too.'

' Meg? ' Dean's pulse was through the roof; he could barely breathe. 'Crowley, you son of a bitch, if you hurt her –'

'– you'll get very butch and masculine and do unspeakable, unlubricated things to me? Yeah, yeah. I'm feeling very threatened. But unless you'd prefer your ladyfriend here to have ended up in Ruby Blue's hands, I'd put the brakes on the outrage train.'

'Explain,' Dean growled. 'Fast.'

'Well, precious –' Crowley began, but Anna cut him off.

' Basically ,' she said, the emphasis strong enough that Dean could practically hear her glaring, 'threatening Cas is no longer deemed an adequate source of leverage to make you do... whatever the hell this is all about, on account of how he's kind of protected and inaccessible right now, and as you're such an antisocial hermit, that makes me the next best thing to compel your obedience.' She snorted. 'Really, I'm flattered, but also sort of pissed. You couldn't have shittier taste in friends?'

Dean gulped. 'Apparently not.'

'They were threatening me?' said Cas, his voice deceptively calm.

'Nothing personal,' said Crowley, 'but yes.'

Dean forced himself to meet Cas's gaze. 'I didn't want you to worry.'

'I understand.' Cas stroked his cheek. 'But you can tell me anything.'

'Hey, hey!' Crowley snapped. 'Stop having a tender moment and focus on the matter at hand.'

'Oh yeah?' said Dean. 'And what would that be, exactly, other than the fact that you've kidnapped our friend and expect us to just take your word that it's for her own good?'

'The matter being,' said Crowley, utterly unperturbed, 'that Ruby's moved up her schedule. The meet is today, Dean. Same time, same place. Be there or be –' there was a pointed pause, '– a very bad friend indeed.'

' Tonight? ' Dean stared at the phone. 'Are you insane?'

'It's been suggested, but in this instance, the answer is hardly relevant. Not my call, Winchester. Not my department.'

'I have a question,' said Cas, while Dean floundered. 'Supposedly, you've taken Anna to keep her safe from Meg, correct?'

'That's what I said, yes.'

'And Meg wants Anna as leverage over Dean?'

'Clever boy.' Crowley's voice was dripping with sarcasm. 'Is there a point to all this, Castiel?'

'Yes, actually. If you're protecting Anna from Meg, and I'm no longer a source of leverage, then how, exactly, does Ruby plan to make Dean do anything? Why should he show up tonight, if she doesn't have any cards up her sleeve? Unless, of course, Ruby does know you have Anna, and you're still acting on her behalf.'

'Goddamit, Crowley!' Dean shut his eyes. 'Meg was never in play at all, was she? You're just covering your ass, so I'll keep Teddy Brimmond alive instead of letting him die.'

There was a moment of stunned silence, into which Anna said, forcefully, ' Fuck .'

Crowley sighed. 'You really are a glass half empty person, aren't you, Dean? Look, I wasn't lying about Meg – Ruby sent her to get Anna, and I just so happened to arrive first. Now, look into your heart of hearts, and tell me I'm not the lesser evil in this situation. Devil you know, and all that.'

'But?'

'But nothing!' Crowley shouted. 'Of course I told Ruby I had her, because I'm not a complete moron. If I hadn't, she'd know I was working against her, and believe me when I say that revelation wouldn't go well for any of us. This way, Ruby still thinks she's calling the shots, Anna's not getting tortured, and you fulfil your contractual obligations by showing up at the Lucifer tonight.'

'You lied to me!' Anna said, though she sounded angrier at herself than the loan shark.

Crowley chuckled. 'Lies of omission don't count, love. Everyone knows that.'

Dean ran his hands down his face. 'Well, that's... that's really something, Crowley. Are you forgetting I'm in hospital for a reason? I'm not exactly at peak condition right now, and if the plan is for me to get into a dust-up with some hired thug of Ruby's –'

'This isn't a negotiation, Dean. Either you show up tonight of your own free will, or I'll have to force you.' There was a clicking noise, followed by a sharply swallowed whimper. 'Darling, do you want me to force him?'

'No,' whispered Anna.

Dean felt the blood drain from his face. 'Crowley, don't . I'll be there, I'll do what you want, but then you let her go, OK? You let Anna go, and then you disappear. You harm a hair on her head, you threaten Cas again – hell, you so much as sneeze in the same postcode as either of them, and god help me, but you will die slow and bloody. Do I make myself clear?'

'Crystal,' said Crowley, his unseen smile like grease in the air. 'See you later, Dean. Oh, and one more thing – the suit I promised is at your flat. I'm a man of my word, after all. Let's hope, for Anna's sake, you're a man of yours.'

He hung up.

'Son of a bitch !' Dean yelled, and hurled his phone at the wall. It shattered, glass and plastic falling to the floor like hard confetti; he shot to his feet, chest heaving with the need to move, to break something else, to run – anything. And then Cas was holding him, those broad hands warm on the skin of his back, anchoring him to here, to now.

'I have to go,' he said, brokenly. 'Cas, I have to.'

'Dean –'

'No.' He stepped back, fists clenched so hard, he could feel his pulse in every cut Meg had given him. 'Don't you dare tell me it's OK, that there's another way, that we'll figure it out, because that's bullshit, Cas, and we both know it. Either I go tonight, or someone I care about gets hurt.'

'So, what – I'm just meant to let you martyr yourself? Dean, these people tortured you. They dragged you into their petty violence because they could, because they don't give a rat's ass whether you live or die. You're expendable to them, that's all. But not to me.' Cas cupped Dean's face, thumbs stroking gently against his cheeks. 'Never to me.'

'There's no other way, Cas. I wish there was, but there isn't.'

'We could tell the police, get them to –'

Dean laughed, the sound as sharp and painful as a snapped rib. 'The police? You want to trust Anna's life to the police ?'

'Is that any worse than trusting yours to Crowley?'

'Yes,' said Dean, suddenly furious, 'and you wanna know why? Because Crowley, for all his faults – and believe me, they are many – isn't an incompetent, sexist, racist dickbag who could give two shits about whether some poor black woman lives or dies. We go to any station in Monument, tell them the stakes, and I guarantee you, Cas, I fucking guarantee it, that if the powers that be have to choose between arresting someone and keeping Anna safe, they'll take the arrest, because she means nothing to them, all right?' He wrenched away from his lover's touch, unable to bear the shock on his face. 'I mean, shit, Cas, why do you think I'm not a cop any more? I tried to be a good man, I tried to do right by people, but when you're working with a bunch of assholes who think that being any darker than spray-tan orange is a criminal offence, push comes to shove, you're still going to wind up across the desk from some shitstain asking you to sign off on a falsified report that says the brown kid your white buddies killed –' he spat the words, '– was holding a gun, and not a fucking phone . At least fucking Crowley has a vested interest in keeping Anna alive, so I don't hunt him down and rip his spine through his throat; at least he's answerable to someone. But cops , Cas? Anna deserves better from us than that.'

Cas exhaled slowly. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I didn't – I never thought –' He stopped, lost for words. 'I don't know what to say.'

Dean slumped; the rage had gone, replaced by the sour, acidic taste of guilt and old grief. 'Shit, Cas, it's not your fault. I'm not mad at you, I know there are good cops out there, but I just – I can't trust to that, you know? Not for something like this; not for Anna. Today of all days, I wish I could, but I just can't, because even if I didn't know better, it's still taking all my faith to believe this is real, that I'm not about to lose you, or chase you away, or –' He swallowed hard. 'I feel like I'm coming undone. I thought I had it together, but I don't, I never did, and now I need to be someone else again, someone I haven't – that I'm not – and I don't know how to do it, Cas, I can't pretend any more. Not about this. Not about anything. So, please. Please don't say anythi–'

Cas stepped up and kissed him, a light press of lips that was almost chaste; but Dean didn't want a bar of chastity from Cas, not then and probably not ever. He kissed back hungrily, open-mouthed, and suddenly Cas was pressed to the wall, gasping as Dean push-pulled him closer, his fingers buried in Cas's hair. He wished they were somewhere else, that he didn't hurt, that nothing did; but when Cas slid his hands along Dean's hips, he brushed against his injured skin, and Dean jerked backwards, hissing with pain.

Cas snatched his hands away, eyes wide. 'Oh, god, I'm sorry! Are you all right?'

'Fine,' said Dean, wincing. 'Though I should maybe invest in some Kevlar before tonight, huh?'

'That could be arranged,' said an unfamiliar voice.

Dean whirled. Standing in the doorway was a smartly-dressed Asian woman with piercing eyes and a sardonic smile. 'The hell?'

The woman approached and held out a hand. 'You must be Dean Winchester. I'm Special Agent Bao; I interviewed Castiel yesterday.'

Dean shook hands automatically, too flummoxed for coherency. 'I – you – what?'

Cas looked quietly furious. 'She took over from Lassiter. I rang her to say you were missing, but she never called back.'

'I never called back,' Bao countered, 'because there was no need. In finding Mr Winchester, I also found you, and at that point, a phone call would hardly have helped. On which subject,' she added, flicking her gaze to encompass them both, 'I really must apologise for eavesdropping. It wasn't my intention, but the door was ajar, and you weren't exactly quiet.'

'Oh, fuck, ' Dean breathed. 'How long were you listening?'

'Long enough. I was poised to knock when your phone rang, and as the subsequent conversation answered most of the questions I'd planned to ask, I thought it simpler all round to let things play out. So.' She smiled, as bright and sharp as the sword of Damocles. 'Tell me more about Ruby Blue.'