Dean Winchester refuses to be that naive girl in the badly made mafia movie but there he is, falling over himself for Castiel Novak, the guy with the unexplained scars and dirty tongue.
Summary: They called John Winchester abusive. They called him paranoid and unfit. They called him crazy. Right now, he's the only reason Dean is going to survive.
Warnings: Violence; rape (not to Dean) and mentions of past rape; drugging; Dean's a badass
Word Count: 2,740
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Dean blinked hard against the darkness, moaning softly over his gag as he tested his restraints. The entire room was pitch black, the ground cold and hard, most likely cement.
"What is the last thing you want to do in a dangerous situation?"
"Freak out."
"Good."
Dean tested his restraints, laughing almost disbelievingly. The handcuffs were tight but they had a little bit of slack. His ankles were duck taped and the gag in his mouth was still in place, the one over his eyes gone.
They called John Winchester abusive. They called him paranoid and unfit. They called him crazy. Right now, he's the only reason Dean is going to survive.
A door creaked open but it was distant. There was a pattering of footsteps, muffled, above Dean's head. He was in a basement of some sort, that much was obvious. The shuffle of footsteps above his head moved to the left, and another door opened. Dean squinted when a light flickered on. He struggled to get to his knees as a pair of footsteps descending a set of stairs, concrete sounding.
Dean saw a sleek pair of black dress shoes first. Followed by pressed black slacks, a perfect crease at every seam, a tailored black jacket slung open around a crisp white button up. Clean stubble, sharp features, slick hair. Chuck Shirley grinned as he stepped off of the last step, his hands linked in front of him. Michael followed behind him with a chair. He set the chair a few feet in front of Dean and Chuck sat down on it, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
"When I was made aware of your presence, I have to say, I was quite shocked." Dean tilted his chin up, staring into Chuck's eyes with steady inhales and smooth exhales, taming the nervous fear in his gut. "You don't look scared, Dean," he remarked.
"That's because I'm not scared of you, Chuck," Dean said, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Chuck huffed, sliding his hand against his chin.
"While I do enjoy instilling fear in those who claim to be unafraid, I do have plans for you, so I'll leave you untouched for the time being. I just wanted to meet the boy my son was so hell bent on protecting. It's not everyday a Novak boy puts a claim on someone." Deans eyebrows furrowed despite himself and Chuck made a delightedly surprised face. "But you didn't know that," he chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. "You see, the only reason we've run so well for all these years, is because we have rules. Very delicate, very important rules. Castiel," Chuck shook his head, tsking, "I was too soft on Castiel, I grew too attached, which is something I pride myself in never doing. Castiel, he showed so much promise, I never would have guessed he'd be the one to throw everything off balance. Such a shame, I looked at him as my own-"
