hear me now (destiel fanfic)

.chapter 7.

In a state of mutual awkwardness, Dean stood and gently grabbed Castiel's arm, crinkling the tan trenchcoat between callused hands. 

" Thanks, Garth. " Dean muttered, grabbing a fairly thick file from the table, and downing his drink.

He cringed on the inside. His new companion had heard everything that Garth had said. Calling him gay, telling him that everyone had already guessed he was, and the accusation that they were...involved.

Feeling like he was going to retch, Dean took the information in one hand and friend in the other and made his way back to the impala, still a little phased by the other hunters words.

As they made their way out to the impala for a second time that day, Castiel sighed internally.

More fucking silence.

As someone without sight, Castiel relied on the sounds and voices that surrounded his daily life. In these he found much comfort. They protected him from the darkness that seeped from sightlessness.

Again, they took their places in the impala and Dean hesitated to start the engine. Cas was confused, until he heard the slight ruffle of paper, and Dean's callused hands running over smooth sheets.

" Fuck. " Dean muttered coldly, through tightly clenched teeth. In a shuffle of jingling keys and Dean's hand slapping the wheel, the impala sped off.

Remembering the way he had been tossed when turning in the driveway of Garth's home, Castiel could tell they were headed the opposite way.

" We're headed to a barn out on the highway. I'm going to get out when we get there. I want you to lay the seat back and keep hold of that gun. Got that? " He asked, voice clear and precise.

Castiel nodded, removing the gun from his pants and resting it beside him.

Dean still felt awkward, Cas hadn't brought up what he had heard, and the green eyed man was ever so thankful.

In moments the speeding impala was pulling into the gravel driveway, a mixture of dirt and rock being sent into the air by tires that barely hugged the road.

Harsh and yearning to have the blood of a supernatural being spill through his fingers once more, Dean made his way to the barn. His coat collar was turned up against the brisk pre-autumn winds, and his boots crunched unevenly in the gravel.

Distant and distraught, he hadn't been prepared for what would greet him next on the other side of the hulking barn door. A quick nervous glance back to Castiel was the last half-good thing those green eyes saw before becoming stricken with horror.

He had greeted death like an old friend, he had literally been to hell and back, but Dean was extremely unprepared for the sight that was separated from him through a set of steel doors. A drumming heart, salt rounds loaded into a sawed off shotgun, and a precious amulet were all placed on his person somewhere, but they served as little faith nor protection from Dean's next obstacle.

Though obstacle was the understatement of the year.

It was more like...

" Sammy. "

Dean's usually gruff voice cracked at the sight of his baby brother slumped over in a wooden chair, his massive feet and hands shackled tightly, blood pouring over the restraints and trickling, drying on his long, slender fingers.

Holding up his gun to any imaginary sound, Dean stalked over to where Sam was. His body had blocked the view of the tall blonde woman from the hotel. He couldn't put two and two together. Sammy was hurt.

Dean tucked away his gun for a moment and crouched below Sam, gently placing a hand on either side of his blood stained face. His stubble had grown out and his hair was lanky and dirty. He had been here a while. A whimper escaped Dean's lips.

Other than that, Dean was grief-stricken and speechless.

But Sam certainly wasn't.

His head popped up, no life flying back into the once soft, very admirable, kind eyes that Sam Winchester had sported humbly. Instead, they were a glassy black. Black, and unbelievable.

"What's the matter, brother mine?" Sam's voice echoed in all corners of the barn. It was raspy and sent a chill up his brothers spine.

"Don't like what you see, Deano? This isn't what you wanted? For me to be... happy?" Sam leaned towards the elder Winchester, and with two hands that were suddenly free, cupped his face violently.

Untrimmed nails dug deep into Dean's face, but that earned no response. Dean didn't cringe or break eye contact with his brother.

The pain in his soul was taking up all of his energy, and he just stared wistfully at the baby brother he had loved all his life. It was a pain that he had never felt before. Worse than what he had endured in hell.

It seemed to grab him hungrily and pull him down into an abyss of despair.

" Sammy. " He uttered once more, his voice stolen and ringing with grief.

" Sam, what happened? " A choking sound followed the sentence, and Sam let out a deep, gruff laugh that rattled the barn.

" What happened? " He chuckled, shaking his head so strands would fall back into place.

" I've become a whole new breed, Deano. Fucking super-demons on steroids. I had gone out on a hunting trip by myself, baby, and when I found Molly, here- " He kicked at the bare leg of the spunky blonde who ceased breathing.

" I couldn't resist. It's an eat or be eaten world, boy, and I intend to feast to my hearts content. "

It was barely noticeable, and if Dean had not known Sammy so well, or rather, the old Sammy, he would not have noticed. The glassy light in his black eyes seemed to turn milky, and he almost seemed...sad.

" I thought 'What's the point in all of this? We live this life expecting death every day.' And you seem to be dead set on the side of the angels, but Dean, there's no point. We can't stop this. If you can't beat em, " he laughed ironically.

" join em."

A sputtering cough of blood came from his lips after a parting final words. Dean looked down to see the pale face of the young woman who was presumed dead; smiling.

A long silver blade had made an entrance in Sam's back, just barely peeking out of his stomach. 

" It's his exes. " she muttered, swinging a silver blade that Dean recognized as the demon Ruby's, before finally collapsing to the floor and taking her last breath. The blade was coated with the warm red, mistakenly human crimson liquid that belonged to Sam.

Dean watched the life leave his brothers eyes. From the soulless black eyes he saw the pair growing and playing and hunting together side by side. He saw Dean protecting Sammy from the back of John's hand. From hell. From everything that dared to cross their path.

This was one thing he couldn't protect his baby brother from. Himself.