Rifle Scissor Stone

Chapter 7

==WARNING: VIOLENCE==

Castiel returned to the station and hurried into Michael's office, locking the door. He typed in the requirements to track Gabriel's phone, and when he saw the location he froze. 
It was the warehouse where his parents had been murdered. Gabriel couldn't be behind that, he had been as old as Castiel had been at the time. With a sigh, Castiel left the office in time to see the other car pull up to the station and the three he had previously been with spilled out of the car. 
"It's in your office, you'll recognize the fuckin' number," Castiel shouted. "Now, I'm going to go save my fucking boyfriend. It's up to your guys if you want to help me or not, and you'll see why as soon as you see the screen." He climbed in the car and left the stunned group of three standing on the sidewalk in front of the brick building. 

When he got to the warehouse, he parked the car and looked around in the dark. The warehouse was an hour outside of the city, so it was now seven. The would have meant five more hours if Castiel decided to follow Gabriel's rules, but he didn't.
Castiel was not going to wait five more hours to see and save his fucking boyfriend. 
He was going to go in there, gun raised, and shoot the second he saw that son of a bitch he had called a partner. Right in the heart. 
Or maybe the damn eye. It would serve him right. 
Castiel was now standing outside the building, gun in hand, safety off, but not at the ready. He wanted the son of a bitch to be surprised. Reaching out and closing his hand around the doorknob, he closed his eyes and steeled himself. This was work as well as personal, but he could do it. 
Castiel opened the door slowly and stepped in, clenching his jaw and looking at the people in front of him.
"Gabriel," Castiel said calmly as a greeting. 
"Ah, Castiel. You disobeyed." Gabriel's voice was grating. "Oh well, the sooner this is over, the better."
"Your brothers know."
"I figured you'd tell them," Gabriel waved his gun absently, then turned it back toward the head he was holding. When he did that, it pulled Castiel's eyes down and he felt anger bubble up in his stomach and chest again. "Ah, anger. How beautiful."
Dean was being held at gunpoint and over a bucket of water.
"I have to admit," Gabriel clicked his tongue. "I would normally drown him in the river or a pool or something. This will have to do, though. I guess it's a little more fun as well." He smirked when Castiel's eyes burned back to him. "Do you want a demonstration? I could easily give you one..."
Castiel raised his gun. "Don't you dare, Milton."
"Oh, I wouldn't raise your gun at me," Gabriel smirked, voice laced with amusement. He shook his head. "Oh, no, no. I've got my finger on the trigger and aimed at your boyfriend's head. I can pull the trigger in the time it takes for the bullet you fire to hit me." 
Castiel felt his eye twitch, but kept his gun raised. It helped him feel better somehow. Made him feel in a little bit more control. 
"Okay, now for that demonstration. Don't worry, I won't kill him." Gabriel chuckled. "Yet." 
He adjusted his grip on Dean's hair and Castiel had a hard time tearing his eyes from Dean's shaking form. His eyes were wide and scared as well, and it threw Castiel into an ever worse terror.
Then his head was plunged in the huge bucket of water. Gabriel held it down, eyes sparkling with amusement and excitement as he looked from Castiel to his victim. In shock and broken fright, Castiel dropped his gun. He barely registered the clatter of it falling to the floor. 

"You know, I know what happened here twenty- four?- years ago," Gabriel mused as he looked around. He'd pulled Dean up a few seconds ago and Dean was coughing and distracting Castiel, who was sitting on the floor from.when he had fallen. "Your parents died. I'm not sure if there's still stains in here either..." 
"There isn't," Castiel mumbled, gun in hand again. Better safe than sorry, so he'd grabbed it again when he realized it had fallen. "Believe me, I know. I remember every aspect of it." 
"Oh, well that's good then. You'll have two things to remember after tonight," Gabriel laughed and it made Castiel want to shoot him more than before. "Shall we get on with this? I've got somewhere to be, specifically away from here when my brothers show up... Let's get this over with."

Gabriel held the gun centimeters from Dean's eye. Dean was coughing, trying to catch his breath from being dunked under the water for two minutes. Castiel had counted while yelling at Gabriel to stop this. Water spilled out of his lips with every choking noise, dripping from his face and hair as well. His eyes didn't close either. They stayed trained on the barrel of the gun, a terrified look haunting them. 
"Everything will be fine, Dean," Castiel said, voice soft. He hoped it was soothing. 
"Oh, yeah," Gabriel laughed. "Everything will be fine. Your little boyfriend will save you, Dean. The same boyfriend who didn't know I was the killer and hasn't known for months. He didn't even know I was working with Raphael Jackson! How soothing is that?" The short man tightened his grip on Dean's hair and Castiel could tell from the jerk in Dean's shoulder and face. "Look at me. I want you looking at me when I shoot out those pretty little eyes and drown you." Castiel heard Dean take in a broken, wet breath as his eyes raised to Gabriel. "Much better." Gabriel then looked up at Castiel. "So, what do you want?" 
"I want my boyfriend," Castiel growled, teeth gritted. 
"Sorry, what was that?" Gabriel turned his head as if it would help him hear better. 
"I want my god damn boyfriend!" Castiel roared, jaw locking when he closed his mouth. His lip twitched as he stared daggers at Gabriel, chest heaving with every angry breath. 
"What, this junk?" Gabriel's gun waved slightly, gesturing to Dean. 
"Junk?" Castiel asked angrily, voice soft. Gabriel had no trouble hearing him this time. "Dean is not junk, Gabriel. He-" Castiel broke off, eyes on Dean when he continued to speak. "He's nice. He's caring. He's funny, loving, crazy, gorgeous, idiotic, yet intelligent. He's the one who's there when you need him most. The one who gets out of bed to turn off the light when you're too tired to; the one who voluntarily helps the woman down the hall carry her groceries and talks with her; the one who knows exactly how to deal with children even when you don't. That idiot you're holding at gunpoint is keeping me together, Gabriel Milton. You-" A sigh fell of of Castiel's lips as a tear feel from his eye. He shook his head minutely. "You don't know what I'm like in shambles. You don't even want to know." 
Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Shambles. I've seen you in shambles, Castiel. You have no reason to worry about that." The gun was back at Dean's eye and Castiel felt anger and guilt swell in his stomach and chest. He was shaking. "Now, I'm going to get this over with. Easier to see you in damn shambles than to see you crying over a trash teacher." Gabriel's finger settled on the trigger again and Castiel froze in panic. 
"No!" He shouted. "No, Gabriel," he breathed, seeing Gabriel turned his head lazily. "Take me. Anything. Take me, do what you want with me. Leave Dean alone. He's a teacher, like you said. A third grade teacher. I'm a detective, I don't have any attachments other than you and Dean. No family. You wouldn't have to worry about it! You could get me, say you found me. Dean wouldn't breathe a word of this to anyone ever, right, Dean? Right. Take me, Gabriel. Leave Dean. Please. I'm begging you! Let Dean live and kill me." 
"No!" Dean said, voice scratched and full of water, and Castiel gave him a look that told him to shut up. "No. You're not doing that, Cas. I'd rather die if it meant you living. You do more than I ever have. You keep people safe." 
"Exactly," Castiel nodded. Dean had just sealed the deal with Gabriel like he had wanted. "I keep people safe. I'm valuable... Don't you want to kill someone valuable yet secluded?"
Gabriel moved the gun from Dean and pointed it at Castiel. "That would be nice. No one to worry about you when you go missing..." 
"Exactly," Castiel said, nodding. "Exactly. Do it, let Dean go. He'll be fine. Dean can continue with his life, keep shaping minds. The streets will be at your mercy, Gabriel. Come on, do it." Castiel's eyes fell to Dean, who was crying again. "One last thing," he whispered. If his plan didn't work, then he needed to get this out. "I love you, Dean. I said it earlier, but the line broke before I did." 
Dean was crying harder now, trying to fight against Gabriel. Gabriel tightened his grip and Dean gasped. 
"Do it, Milton. I'm done." 

The shot echoed through the warehouse. Castiel felt the bullet pierce skin and gasped, firing his gun at the same moment. 
Gabriel was too stunned to move and was hit right where Castiel had aimed- the eye. 
Castiel watched him drop and exhaled, hand rising up to his shoulder. He felt the blood from the wound soaking through his jacket and, when he pulled his hand away, it was covered in red. He shook his head and stood, stepping over his now dead partner and untying Dean's hands with one hand. Dean was still shaking, and when he stood and looked at Castiel, it was with gratitude. 
"Shut up," Castiel smiled shakily. "I'm fine and you're fine. That's what matters, not who did it. Let's go." 
"Cas-" Dean grabbed his good arm and sighed. "You said his brothers know we're here. It would be better to wait, wouldn't it?"
"I guess," Castiel sighed, but that was a bad idea. His shoulder stung when it relaxed. "Fuck," he whispered, hand raising to it again. "Want to do me a favor?"
Dean rolled his eyes and nodded. "I'm heading out to the car, because I know you've got a kit in there. I'll be right back, okay? Don't do anything."
Castiel smiled and nodded, dropping down to sit against the wall by the door. Dean left and he was alone with his dead partner and himself. 
"You were a sick son of a bitch, Gabriel," Castiel muttered, wincing at the pain that shot through his shoulder. "You deserved that." 
Dean appeared again and crouched in front of Castiel, opening the kit. 
"I don't even care about the shirt," Castiel breathed. "You can rip it or you can leave it, all I know is that I can't lift that arm." 
"I'll rip it," Dean whispered. "It'll be better than having fabric pressing against your wound." Castiel nodded, finding comfort in the scratchy tone of Dean's voice. He listened to Dean talk softly about nothing as he worked, biting his lip every time Dean coughed. The ripping of his shirt distracted him for a second, then he was back to pain when Dean wiped the wound with antiseptic. He hissed in a breath and winced, a metallic taste flooding his mouth at the pain. "Sorry, sorry," Dean whispered every time Castiel winced. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Castiel sighed. "It's much better than having an infection." 
"Have you-"
"Yeah, but don't worry about it. It's a story for another time."
Dean exhaled sharply and Castiel smiled slightly. He listened as Dean rustled through things in the kit and sighed softly, keeping his shoulder tense. He could feel blood on his skin and closed his eyes. "I was so worried," he muttered, then felt Dean start to press something to his shoulder. "He told me to wait until midnight, but I knew you'd be dead by then."
"I would have bargained," Dean joked. "No way I would have died without seeing you one last time."
"Sap," Castiel teased, a smile playing with his lips. "I couldn't have watched my home die in front of me, you know. That's why I did what I did. Though, it looks like the plan backfired a little bit. I didn't mean to get shot." 
"Well, you were kind of playing Russian roulette with him." 
Castiel chuckled. "I guess so. Kill or be killed." 
Dean tied off the gauze he had wrapped around Castiel's shoulder and closed the kit, sitting back to face Castiel. "Open your eyes, angel," Dean pleaded. "Please?"
Castiel obliged and smiled at Dean, head leaning against the wall. "Thank you."
"It was no problem," Dean shook his head. 
"Michael and Lucifer should be here soon," Castiel grinned. "Mind if I sleep? I've been tired all morning."
"I'll watch over you. Take a break from watching me." Dean kissed him lightly, something Castiel hadn't been expecting. "I'll be right here and I'll wake you when they get here." 
"Thank you." 

Castiel woke up in bed with Dean beside him. He grumbled slightly and shifted on the uncomfortable bed, wondering what the hell was going on. Where was he?
"Hey- hey, Cas," Dean's hand rested on his cheek. "Calm down. Don't try to sit up just yet." 
"Why not?" Castiel blinked long and hard. "Where are we?"
"Hospital. You've got to get the bullet taken out of your shoulder, angel." Dean's hand remained on his cheek, thumb stroking under his eye gently. "You've been passed out for a while. You said you'd been tired since the morning?"
"Yeah," Castiel yawned. "I didn't remember anythin' either..." He was suddenly alert, eyes focusing on Dean's. "Was I drugged?"
"I don't know," Dean sighed. "You could have been. We'll have them check, okay?" A confirming nod was Castiel's answer. "I had to have Nick carry you."
Castiel chuckled softly. "Sounds fun. How much did he complain?"
"Not that much," Dean shrugged, bottom lip sticking out. "After I threated to call Sammy and tell him Nick was being a jerk, he was totally complainant. Putty in my hands."
Castiel looked over to see a smug smile gracing Dean's face and laughed. "Oh, you're perfect. I'm definitely sticking with you for a long time." 
"My astounding skills just keep you guessing, don't they, Cas?"
"Yes, they do, Dean," Castiel chuckled. He accepted the soft kiss before the doctor came in with a tray and utensils that should have been certified as weapons. Dean excused himself silently as the doctor asked Castiel if he would like anything to numb the pain and Castiel practically begged for it.

A few minutes later, Castiel was blinking slowly and floating. Wait- no- he wasn't floating. He was laying in bed. 
There was a clicking and Castiel looking over at the doctor, who was placing a bloody bullet in the metal tray. "Tha' was in me?"
"Yes, it was. Don't move just yet, I have to stitch you up and redress the wound. Okay?"
"Mm'kay," Castiel nodded, leaning his head back and gazing up at the ceiling. "Where's that guy who was just in here? He's my human." A proud smile settled on Castiel's lips. "Do you know where my human went?"
"I don't. I'm sorry," the man replied distractedly.
"Ah, that's okay. As long as he doesn't get in trouble again. When I couldn't find him this morning I cried. He's my human an' my home." Castiel paused, breathing softly. He was vaguely aware of the tugging of the needle in his skin, and winced slightly when it stung. "I'm a cop," he stated. "Detective, actually. My partner was a killer... But I guess we don't have to worry about that now. He put that bullet in me and I got one in him. Do you know where I got the bullet? I'm a good aim."
"No, I don't know. Should I ask?"
"I got him in the eye. He was going to kill my human. I couldn't let that happen." 
"Oh, no, you couldn't." 
"Never. Are you done?" Castiel looked down to see the doctor clipping the wire thread of his stitches. "Oh, wait, you had to dress it. Right?"
"Yep."
"Is it going to wear a dress?"
"Nope."
"What about a suit? I like suits. They're fancy. I wear one every day to work."
"It's not going to wear a suit, no, but you could pretend it is."
"I'll do that," Castiel grinned. "My shot wound is wearing a suit. That sounds nice. It deserves to feel nice." 
"Yes, it does. It went through a lot of suffering."
"And pain. Though, to quote Malcom Merlyn from Green Arrow: There is no pain, only suffering. So I guess it's actually a lot of suffering... A lot of it." 
The doctor laughed, finishing up. "All suited up. I have a feeling your human will be back soon. Mind being alone for a few seconds?" 
Castiel shook his head and watched the doctor leave. 
He was left in silence for a bit, contemplating his feeling of floating and looking at his hands and rummaging around under his legs every few seconds to be sure he wasn't floating. Because, if he was floating, he wanted to know. How cool would it be if he was actually floating? Then Dean would have a reason to call him angel. 
The door to the room opened again and distracted Castiel. He looked up and grinned widely when he saw Dean coming into the room. "Human!" Castiel sat up and held his hand out to Dean, who was laughing. When Dean took his hand Castiel calmed down slightly, graciously accepting the kiss Dean leaned in to press to his lips. "I think I'm flying."
"You're not flying, angel," Dean replied softly. "Though, it would be cool if you could."
"Damn right, it would. I'd fly you everywhere you wanted to go. Paris? We're there. London? A flap of wings."
Dean grinned and squeezed his hand. "Sounds like it would be nice." Dean smiled at him and Castiel couldn't help smiling back.
"Want to know something, Dean?"
"What is it?"
Castiel shook his head and gestured for Dean to come closer. "I love you," Castiel whispered once Dean leaned in close enough. "I've only known since yesterday."
"I love you too, Cas," Dean laughed softly. "I only figured it out two days ago. Looks like I'm a step ahead of you." He winked at Cas and Castiel pouted. 
"I doubt that," Castiel whined. "You're not ahead of me. I'm older than you!" 
"That you are," Dean grinned. "But you sure aren't acting it. I got the doctor's okay to take you home, by the way. Do you want some help changing into your clothes? I brought you some from your apartment." 
"Sounds wonderful," Castiel grinned. "Thank you. This hospital gown thing isn't comfortable." 
"I bet," Dean replied, grabbing the bag from the end of the bed. He took Castiel's hand and helped him stand gently, supporting him slightly. Castiel winced when his feet hit the cold floor. 
"I hope you brought socks."