You Soar & You Drown (Destiel AU)

Chapter Eight

 “Well, hello, boys.”

Cas jolted away from Dean when he heard the familiar voice. Dean was swept off the bed by Cas’ wings, sent to the floor groaning as the angel stood up, blade in hand.

“Crowley,” Castiel growled, holding his arms so the demon wouldn’t see the bloody gashes crossing his chest. “What do you want?”

The demon chuckled a little, laughing at Cas’ expression. “Oh, no need for that, Cassie. I’ve only come to give you news.”

At that moment, the door flew open, and Sam stumbled in, dragging Gabriel’s motionless body behind him. Cas’ mouth flew open in shock, and he coughed out, “Gabriel?”

“Who else?” Crowley moved over to the adjoined kitchen and examined a lonely, half-empty wine bottle sitting on the counter. “Well, Winchesters, I can’t exactly say anything for your terrible choices in wine.”

“Shut up,” Sam growled. He looked really upset about Gabe’s situation, more distraught then Dean would have pegged him to be.

“Heal him,” Cas added, his pretty blue eyes shooting daggers at Crowley.

“Nope,” Crowley said nonchalantly. “He has three days.” The demon disappeared.

“Assbutt,” Castiel muttered, still glaring at the spot Crowley had been seconds ago.

Dean coughed, obviously trying to hold back a laugh. “Assbutt?”

“This isn’t funny, Dean,” Cas said angrily, turning his glare on the older Winchester.

“Nope—nope—sorry, Cas,” Dean chuckled, coughing again. “Sorry.”

Cas dropped down beside his brother and ran his hands over the stab wound. The bleeding slowed, and the wound closed up a little, but not completely—not enough to be safely healed.

 “We should get him to the hospital,” Sam suggested.

Cas turned a disbelieving stare on him. “No. We can’t. If they tried to do an X-ray or perform surgery on him, or something like that, then they’d figure out that he wasn’t human. I haven’t been on Earth for hundreds of years, but I know that if humans find something that is different, they’ll lock it up and experiment on it. It would only make things worse for Gabe.”

Dean knelt on the other side of Gabriel, still holding the first aid kit. “Well then, let’s try to bandage this up the old-fashioned way.” He opened the kit and held up a roll of gauze. “Let’s get going.”

 * * *

Cas was back in the room he’d been in before, the messy one with all the notes and maps and drawings. He now recognized the handwriting as his own, but the notes weren’t in English—they were in Enochian. They mostly read things about angels and that sort of thing, though one piece of paper was just the words, HELP ME!! scrawled hurriedly in scarlet.

Lucifer was sitting on the bed, wearing jeans and a faded T-shirt splattered with blood. He was examining his nails, acting oblivious to Cas’ presence. After five minutes of sitting in terrified silence, Lucifer finally looked up and stared directly into Castiel’s eyes. “Hello again, little brother.” Suddenly, an angel blade appeared in his hand. He started to use it to file his nails.

Cas couldn’t make his mouth form sounds, or even words. He just sat there staring at the other angel, too scared to speak.

“Are we ready?” Lucifer spoke condescendingly, like he was talking to a child.

“Stay away from me,” Cas said, his voice uneven. He cursed himself for not being able to keep the fear out of his voice and said in a steadier voice, “or I’ll be forced to kill you.”

“You? Kill me?” Lucifer’s laugh filled the whole room. He finally looked at Cas, and when their eyes locked, Cas felt himself start to shake again. He knew Lucifer could sense his uneasiness, but he tried not to think about that as he looked around the room for a weapon. Suddenly everything was curvy and round, with no sharp edges—nothing he could use against Lucifer. The only thing sharp enough to hurt someone was the angel blade in his brother’s hand.

The old gashes were just scars now, remains of his last encounter with Lucifer, but they burned like hell now that he was facing the other angel again. It was like they were conscious of Lucifer’s presence, which really scared Cas. And he knew that just like the other dream, Lucifer would take it upon himself to torture Cas again.

How long would these dreams go on for? How many more nights? Weeks? Years? It was strange how they’d begun only when he’d met the Winchesters. He’d been on Earth two days before he’d started school and met them, and neither times had he felt the need to either sleep or dream.

“Lucifer, please, stop,” Cas heard himself beg as he backed away from his advancing brother. He hit the wall and cowered, the shreds of his pride vanishing as he tried to protect himself from his brother’s blows. But it was useless, useless, and he couldn’t think with all the screaming—