Hunting Season // A Destiel Fanfic (AU)

Prologue

Sunday // 12:47 am
"You filthy mutt!"

Castiel panted, his once gorgeous smooth black wings shriveled in pain. Bruises and cuts everywhere from the many years of not being able to get healed. His wings became rough and crusty with blood. He couldn't move or stretch them, they were tied together at the base and midpoint. He laid on the ground curled up, wrists and ankles bound with thick heavy and itchy rope. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry so bad... but he had to keep up his emotionless facade.

When he didn't feel anymore lashes come, it frightened him a little. He opened his eyes slowly but didn't move his head, fixating on the cold concrete ground.

12 owners. 12 owners bought him, but have returned him for trying to flee. His seller was punishing him even though the last one broke him a lot.

Wednesday // 3:15 pm

Castiel can't remember a time when he was free. He sits in his cage, watching people walking through the showroom and doing his best not to anger his Master while he waits to be purchased. He is beaten and broken, and his body matches his spirit. He is just waiting for death at this point, and it feels not too far off. He sighs and watches another customer wander in.

Castiel's eyes follow a strange man as he walks through the room and examines him. He is just like everyone else - the enemy. Castiel has been beaten down so much that he didnt trust anyone. His whole life is obey and serve, avoid punishment. Sadly, he usually gets punished anyway.

Dean has been a Hunter for years now and has experience. After being fired from his original job for sleeping with half of the fucking police department he worked at, hunting was the second thing. He stumbled across some 'sale' for workers and I guess he was too dumb to realize what kind or type.

Dean wore his work attire of a plain black shirt and red flannel, light jeans with a black belt, and some leather work/combat boots. His short dirty blonde hair was fuzzed up as he forgot to comb his hair that morning, looking like he got out of bed and got dressed— which is basically what he did.

Dean looked at all the angels in a little horror but played it cool. He turned to one and could tell just from the pain in their blue eyes he needed the most help. He glanced at a small sign at the corner of the cage that said 'On Sale: 10% off' from the original price and looking at the others, the angel was 400 and could see he had been worn out.

Soon a man went up to him and questioned Dean. He began to try and bargain. Almost an hour of arguing they settled on $260 instead— 140 dollars off which was better than nothing he guessed. Dean then glanced at Castiel as he signs some papers.

Wednesday // 4:50 pm

As soon as Dean signs the papers, guards come and whisk Castiel's cage to the back, sedating and tying up the angel for transportation. One of the guys looks at Dean, sighing. "Top of the car or the trunk?"

Dean blinked and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "Is the backseat an option?" Dean got a glance of Castiel and bit his lip a little, feeling pretty sorry for him.

"People don't usually want that..." the guys say, unsure. "Are you positive?" He asks, frowning.

Dean blinked and asked the men, "Is he a hazard to me or himself?" Castiel looked too weak and helpless to try and put up a fight.

"Sometimes they are violent at first, especially new ones. This one is pretty broken in and with him tied up he shouldn't be," the other man explains.

Dean nodded, "Backseat then." Dean opened a back door to his Baby and looked at the men.

The men practically shove Castiel in, although he is still unconscious so he flips a lot. "We put all his tools in the trunk."

Dean nodded. He buckled the sleeping angel in still and closed the door. He waved them goodbye giving them a small tip, he then drove out of that 'hell'.