Lucifer In Lace

Part 6 Heaven

There was a flood of new inmates in the following weeks. Transferred in from other prisons for violent behaviour. Warden Knight doubled the number of guards but with a limited pool of personnel to draw from, everyone looked worn. Castiel kept up his sermons and prayer groups, trying hard not to think about Dean who was scarcely around. There was no point trying to talk to him, given how little Castiel found out in that little chin-up debacle. Increasingly, Castiel spent more time with his worshippers, preaching wholeheartedly about seeking freedom in belief.

Of the new arrivals, the Russian named Gadreel drew Castiel's attention the most. He was tall and athletic and seemed to hang around the former Russian mafia boss Nick an awful lot. Castiel wondered if Gadreel might have been reinforcement called in by Nick after the death of his bodyguard Alastair. Nick still had his other guards as well, the brothers Uriel and Raphael who watched the ailing man night and day. Despite his worsening health, Nick attended Castiel's sermons every day. Sitting in his wheelchair at the far back row, eyes affixed to the crucifix. Occasionally, staring at Castiel's face and smiling unnervingly. There was a new guard as well, a Texan named Azazel who was personally appointed by Warden Knight. He was assigned to the commissary and as such Castiel saw little of him.

Checking the recordings from Dean's cell every evening when he got home, Castiel did not catch Sam comforting Dean again. The two played card games or spoke of going hunting when they were out of prison. A strange conversation to be having given that Dean's sentence was for life. Castiel wondered if they were speaking in code, and if they were, what they were truly discussing.

The night Nick had his stroke, the prison was locked down for fear of a riot. Whether formally acknowledged or not, the mob boss was top of the food chain and with him failing a power vacuum was developing. Castiel was obliged to stay overnight in case he was needed to perform last rites. He was surprised when Dean came knocking on Castiel's office door again, smirking as Castiel let him inside.

"Have you come to seek confession once more?" Castiel asked, appalled at the slight tremor of excitement in his voice. He didn't understand how Dean had managed to be let out of his cell and allowed to come to the less secure part of the prison given the raised security alert level.

Dean shook his head in response to Castiel's question and propped his feet up on Castiel's desk with lazy insolence. "Nah, Cas, not into that anymore. And not into you."

Castiel looked down at his hands, there was a form in front of him about a shipment of bibles he had requested arriving the next day. After a whole minute of silence, he looked up again and Dean was still there, legs splaying a little, eyes assessing.

"I thought," Castiel was having difficulty speaking, a position he seldom found himself in. "I had experienced, that is, my instinct tells me that you were sincere in lavishing your attentions upon me."

"Really? Terrible instincts, Cas," Dean's top lip pulled up a little with distaste. "If we weren't so watched, I'd probably attend to you like my other boyfriends in the past."

Castiel met Dean's eyes unblinkingly. "You are trying to convince me that you would have murdered me after our sexual intercourse?"

Dean beamed brightly. "I'd make a nice thorough job of you."

"I don't believe you," Castiel stood up his palms flat on the desk, his eyes burning. "Is there someone else of more interest to you? Sam ... "

Dean raised his eyebrows. "He's like a brother to me."

Castiel swallowed, it should matter but that short sentence made his whole body feel lighter.