You Soar & You Drown (Destiel AU)

Chapter Four

Dean waited at Cas’ apartment for a couple of hours after the angel had left with Sam. He watched a couple episodes of a cheesy TV show, but he wasn’t really concentrating on that. Finally, when he noticed the clock on the wall turning to 2:00 P.M., he decided to leave. Looking back one last time at the empty apartment, he propped the broken door against its frame and headed out to the Impala.

* * * 

“Castiel!” Crowley’s response to the summoning was almost immediate. “Well, I am pleased to see you.”

“How long do I have?” The angel asked between gritted teeth, keeping his back to the demon. Crowley had stepped right into a devil’s trap, but it wouldn’t be long before some demons came to rescue their king. He didn’t have long to talk.

“Oh, I’d say, maybe until tomorrow evening?” Crowley lazily inspected his nails. They were surprisingly clean—Cas had apparently pulled him from the middle of a torture session, because he was wearing his trademark white apron, stained with fresh blood.

“You know it won’t be easy to kill the Winchesters. Not with me protecting them.”

“Oh, but Castiel, there is only one of you. And I have thousands of demons at my disposal.” Crowley smiled carelessly, like he was talking about the weather or something stupid and boring like that. “I’ll tell you what. I can start with angels, if you want. Your brothers and sisters and family. I think my demons can handle that.” Crowley’s voice became almost excited as he exclaimed, “and then we’ll go after the Winchesters!”

Cas turned around to kill him right then and there, but the demon was already gone.

* * *

Dean was on his way back to his apartment when his phone buzzed in the empty passenger seat next to him. Swearing softly, he picked it up and flipped it open to the caller ID. Sam. He clicked talk and held the phone up to his ear. Sam didn’t even bother with a hello before asking, “Is Cas with you?”

“No. I thought he was with you.”

“Well, he’s not.” Sam’s voice was so worried Dean thought about turning around and driving back towards the place Sam and Jess shared.

“Do you…have any way to contact him?” Sam asked.

“Why? What’s up, Sammy?” Dean asked, holding the phone up to his ear as he pulled into the parking lot next to his apartment.

“The hospital just called. It’s Dad. They think he may be dying.”

* * *

Cas didn’t want to face Dean again. He didn’t want to face Sam. Part of him wanted to go back in time so he wouldn’t meet the Winchesters in the first place, but the other, stronger part of him didn’t want to forget Dean’s face, or the sparkle in his eyes whenever he smiled, or the way his lips had felt when they had pressed against Cas’.

He wanted to see Gabe. He wanted the comfort of his older brother. He wanted to curl up in Gabe’s arms and pretend that everything would be okay, that all of Hell was out and hunting him.

Tentatively, Cas sent out a prayer, reaching for Gabriel. Please, Gabe. I need you. Please come.

He waited for a couple of minutes, listening attentively for Gabe’s voice, or for his sudden appearance in the empty apartment. He jumped when he heard a voice fill his mind, but it wasn’t Gabriel’s.

Castiel, please. We need your help. Our dad is at the hospital, and he’s…he’s not waking up. Do you think you could heal him? Or at least try?

It was Dean Winchester’s voice. Cas felt his blood go cold at the mention of their father, but he controlled his anger and stayed on the couch, forcing himself to calm down before standing up and stepping a little ways from the couch. Gabe hadn’t responded to his prayers, and probably wasn’t going to.

Where are you, Dean?

He didn’t expect an answer—Dean couldn’t hear his thoughts, anyways—but he did get a location. He was in a hospital a few hours away, somewhere in Kansas.

“Why, hello, Castiel. What a pleasure to see you again so soon.”

Crowley’s voice came from right behind him, and before he had a chance to move, the demon smiled cleverly and a circle of holy fire sprung to life around Cas.

Crowley chuckled at Cas’ murderous glare and sipped the glass of wine he’d brought with him. “I wonder why I don’t just kill you now,” he mused to himself. He took another sip of the drink and prowled around the circle, his eyes following Cas’ every movement. 

“Why don’t you?” The angel spat angrily, clenching his fists at his sides like he was going to take a swing at Crowley any second.

The demon mocked fake hurt. “Well, Cassie, there’s no need to be hostile. But you want to know why?” He leaned closer, careful not to touch the fire. “I enjoy watching you suffer. And maybe I want to see you go down on your knees begging before I take you.” Crowley’s smile was insufferable. “But I can’t have you going around saving the people I hurt, can I? That defeats the whole purpose. So you can just stay here like a good little angel until your little Winchester boys come back and find you, wondering why you wouldn’t save their poor daddy.” The demon stepped back, flicking an invisible piece of dust off of his shoulder. “And you won’t try to save anybody, unless you want them to die all the faster.” Crowley paused, taking another sip of his wine. “John Winchester has one week. And then he’s dead.”