Chapter Text

Chapter 3

The next day found Castiel in the garden, in full sun, sweating through weeding out the royal peonies. He didn’t fly that morning, still too anxious about what had happened the night before, and too tired after many sleepless hours to trust his flying abilities. The thought of losing focus and falling to his death was almost as terrifying as the memory of Lord Gordon’s footsteps approaching as he stood naked in the middle of the falconry tower.

The first half of his morning passed calmly. Castiel could hear his apprentices walking around, chatting, and joking as they worked, but he stayed quiet, trying to keep his eyes open and concentrate on his job instead of the apprehensive thoughts in his head.

He almost managed to relax, convincing himself nothing bad was going to happen, when he realized what Samandriel and Jack were talking about.

“Does anyone know what really happened?” asked Jack.

Samandriel shook his head. “It’s all just a rumour for now because no one wants to say anything just yet. All we know is the king hasn’t left the throne room since this morning. Apparently, the falconers are with him.”

Castiel’s head snapped up.

“Are they being questioned?” Jack asked, his eyes wide and curious.

“It certainly seems so. Who else would know about that if not them? They spend all the time in the tower, they must have seen something.”

“Were they there when the lord saw the creature?”

“I don’t know. But Hannah saw them being led into the throne room, guards all around them, and Inias told me the king is furious.”

Jack nodded thoughtfully. “Of course. Shapeshifting is prohibited.”

Samandriel agreed quietly, and then noticed Castiel watching them. Before Castiel could say anything, the boy elbowed Jack in the side and they both hurried back to work, stalking off in opposite directions.

Castiel stayed where he was, on his knees with his hands stained with dirt. His mind was reeling. He knew better than to believe servants’ gossip, but he was horrifyingly certain this was actually true. He knew of the king’s prejudice towards shapeshifters, and the way it also shaped the opinions of everyone living in the castle. Shapeshifters were banned. They had no place among the court or in the city, and the king would probably like all of them wiped from existence altogether. He was known for his hatred. In the past, he had hunted and killed many of Castiel’s kind, years before Castiel even arrived at the castle after leaving his parents’ village. To be a shapeshifter in the castle was like stealing straight from a merchant’s cart, all while the merchant was watching you.

And yet, Castiel had been doing it for years with no repercussions. He became too sloppy with his shifting, paying little to no attention to what was happening around him, risking way too much and way too often. He should never have done what he did last night. Anyone could have seen him – and Cain and Dean should have been the least of his worries. The king had just organised a royal hunt, it was obvious one of his guests would have gone up to the tower to see how their bird was doing.

It seemed Castiel’s bad luck came back to him after all these years in the form of Lord Gordon.

It was no surprise the lord had taken the shocking news to the king. He couldn’t have seen much, and he definitely hadn’t recognised Castiel – otherwise, Castiel would have already been thrown in a cell – but what he did see and hear was enough. He had heard a human in a tower and seen a bird escape.

The conclusion was obvious.

What hurt Castiel the most was the knowledge that now Cain and Dean were taking all the blame.

He jumped to his feet, the tools he’d been using falling to the ground with a loud clang. Jack, standing closest to him, turned to him with a surprised look, but Castiel didn’t have time to explain anything. He had to help Dean.

He turned on his heel and left the garden, then hurried through the castle, dodging servants going about their day. He had never climbed the stairs so quickly in his life, and then he was running towards the throne room door – only to find it closed and guarded.

He stopped a few steps before the door, catching big gulps of air and feeling as if his heart would jump out of his chest. The guards barely moved but they stared at him, frowning. Castiel recognised one of them.

“Benny,” he said, still breathless.

Benny threw a look at the other guard, an older man Castiel didn’t know, then looked back at Castiel. He wasn’t smiling.

“Hello, Cas,” he said warily.

“Benny. Is Dean there?”

The other guard glared at him. “The king is preoccupied. No one is allowed to enter,” he said.

“I know,” Castiel said. “But is Dean there with him?”

Benny’s mouth thinned. “Cas, go back to work. You shouldn’t be here.”

“No, you have to let me in. Dean is innocent!”

“Cas—”

“Benny, please.” Castiel took a step forward, then another. The second guard moved his lance to bar the door, but Benny didn’t move. “You know he’s innocent.”

“This is not a place for you, gardener,” the second guard said. “Leave before we make you.”

“You know him,” Castiel begged. “I know you do.”

“Cas, go away. Dean’s safe. There’s no need to worry, I promise.”

“He’s not the one the king is looking for—”

The second guard took a step towards Castiel. “Are you saying you know who the king is looking for?” His face was angry, a dangerous spark in his eyes. Castiel backed away and shook his head. “Then get the hell out of here before I run you through with my sword.”

Castiel met Benny’s eyes. “Please—”

Before any of them could answer, footsteps sounded in the hall and both guards snapped back to their position, backs straight and eyes unmoving. When Castiel turned, he saw Queen Amara walking towards them, her dark hair pinned back and adorned with a silver circlet, her black dress simple but elegant. Castiel bowed down, head lowered, and he stayed that way even while he squeezed his hands into fists and could hear his heart hammering in his ears.

The queen wasn’t around much, more often than not choosing the solitude of her chambers and disregarding any official meetings and banquets the king revelled in. They had been married for over twenty years but the entire court knew they now lived as if they weren’t – only their royal titles kept the illusion of the royal couple. The fact that through all these years they never managed to bear an heir was said to be the final blow to their relationship.

“Open the door,” the queen said as she came closer. All Castiel could see was the hem of her dress but he could imagine the look on her face – boredom mixed with severity. No one said no to the queen.

“Your highness,” Benny muttered, and then the door was opening and Queen Amara marched in.

Before it closed again, Castiel looked up and saw the king seated on his throne, surrounded by advisors and guards, while both Cain and Dean stood before the dais, heads bowed and hands shackled. Without thinking, Castiel rushed forward – but then the second guard pushed the blunt end of his lance into his stomach and sent him falling to the ground with a surprised cry.

Benny caught the guard’s arm before he could land another hit and said to Castiel, “Go.”

Castiel scrambled up and hurried away without looking back.

He couldn’t believe it was happening, and all because of his stupidity. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to Dean, and he was almost shaking with the thought of Dean with his hands bound, the hands that were always so gentle with all the birds in his care. The hands that held him just a few days ago, that handed him beer when he visited, that clapped his shoulder as he was leaving. Good, innocent Dean, now threatened, all because of Castiel’s stupid mistake. There had to be something he could do or say to prove Dean wasn’t the one to blame. Something other than shifting right in front of the king’s eyes and turning his wrath on him. But if there wasn’t, Castiel wouldn’t think twice before revealing his secret, not if it meant Dean walking free.

He was too preoccupied with his thoughts to see where he was going, and he didn’t notice the person standing by the open door to one of the chambers until they grabbed his arm and yanked him inside.

“Stay quiet.”

Castiel didn’t make a sound, but when he looked up and saw Sir Balthazar’s face, he bent down into a bow.

The hand on his arm tightened. “Stop this. You don’t have to bow to me.”

“Sir,” Castiel mumbled.

“Come on.” The knight pulled him further into the chamber, which was probably his own room, judging by the way it was furnished – not too rich but definitely better than any of the servants’ rooms. “We need to talk.”

“What about?” Castiel asked. He sounded anxious even in his own ears.

“About what’s happening in the throne room.” The knight saw Castiel’s face and sent him a smile. “Yes, I know what’s happening in there.”

“Can you tell me?”

“I can and I will,” Balthazar said smoothly, “but I want you to answer me one question first.” When Castiel didn’t say anything, he continued, “It was you, wasn’t it?”

Faced with the truth so suddenly, Castiel had no idea how to react or conceal his surprise – so he didn’t. When he just stared at the knight with wide eyes, neither denying nor confirming, Balthazar nodded and smiled.

“That’s what I thought.”

“How—” Castiel backed away until the back of his legs met a chair and he sat down heavily. Balthazar didn’t seem to mind him sitting in his presence, so he stayed that way. “Why—”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Balthazar said. “I’m not your enemy.”

“You’re not?” Castiel blinked. “But… everyone is. Shapeshifters are banned from the country. Punishable by death. The king—”

“The king is a maniac,” Balthazar said.

Castiel gaped at him.

“Blasphemous, aren’t I?” The knight smirked. “I know. It’s my favourite personality trait, if I’m being honest.”

“I… don’t understand,” Castiel said. “You’re his knight. And Lord Gordon’s knight.”

“A fact I mourn every day,” Balthazar said with a sigh. “Yes, I’m sworn to them, but it does not mean I need to agree with everything they do and say. In this case, I rarely agree with anything, and especially not with that.”

“But why?”

Balthazar tilted his head and sent him a knowing look. “Can’t you guess?”

Castiel thought about the times he had met Sir Balthazar before – wandering alone, far from his usual crowds, seemingly lost. Was it possible he was always just looking for solitude to be able to transform without being seen?

Was it possible he was like Castiel?

When Castiel raised his eyes and met Balthazar’s, something in him already knew the answer. The mischievous glint in his eyes spoke volumes.

“You’re a shifter,” Castiel said.

Balthazar nodded. “Always have been.”

“I have never met anyone like me before,” Castiel said in wonderment. “Except for my father, but he died years ago. I sometimes thought I was the only one in the world.”

“There aren’t a lot of us, true, but you’re definitely not alone. Do you need me to shift now so that you have proof?” Balthazar reached for a collar of his shirt with a satisfied smile.

Castiel stood up quickly. “There is no need for that. I believe you.”

Balthazar dropped his hand. “Another time, then.”

“Are you… What is your…?” Castiel waved to Balthazar’s body, not knowing how to ask what he wanted to know and not sound too forward.

“A fox,” Balthazar said with a raise of his eyebrow. “My animal is a fox. And I’ll have you know she’s marvelous.”

Castiel nodded, unsure how to respond. Looking at Sir Balthazar now, he could definitely see how well the animal suited him. It was there in the knight’s all-knowing smirk and sly eyes.

“I understand you’re a bird,” Balthazar said, gesturing to Castiel with his hand and prompting him to talk.

“A kestrel falcon,” Castiel said with a nod.

“And Gordon saw you transform.”

“He didn’t see me, not exactly. I was in the tower, in my human form, when he heard my voice. I shifted before he appeared, but he must have seen the bird fly out the window and concluded it was a shifter.”

It felt strange talking about it. In the back of his head there was a voice telling him he should be more wary, he shouldn’t trust Balthazar so easily, he could use this information to reveal his secret – but deep inside he felt Balthazar was telling the truth. There was something there, like a pull between them, two shapeshifters, and Castiel realised he had felt it since the first time they saw each other.

And if anyone could help him now, it was Balthazar.

“He did,” Balthazar said, all joking now gone from his voice. “Gordon is greedy, he wouldn’t miss a chance to ingratiate himself with the king and would probably run to him with information even if it was just a bird. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t.”

Castiel let out a sigh. “I’m always careful, I swear. I don’t know what—”

“I doesn’t matter now.” Balthazar put up a hand to stop him. “And it gets worse.”

“How can it get worse? Someone almost saw me and now my best friend is being accused of keeping secrets from the king,” Castiel said desperately. “I can’t imagine a worse situation.”

Balthazar smiled sadly. “He found a feather which I believe belongs to you.”

Castiel’s heart stopped. “But that means…”

“That means it will be easier to recognise the bird it comes from, and from that try to determine who it could be.”

Castiel closed his eyes. “My falcon is much smaller than any other birds. If someone knows a lot about birds, they will know the feather comes from a kestrel and not from any of the royal birds.” A sudden, paralyzing thought struck him and he opened his eyes with a loud gasp. “Dean—”

Balthazar met his eyes and then, very slowly, nodded. Castiel covered his mouth.

“Dean must have recognised it,” he whispered. “He has met the falcon enough times and his knowledge of raptors is almost as wide as Cain’s.”

“I was there when Gordon presented the feather to the king,” Balthazar said. “I don’t know your friend as well as you do, but one look at his face in that moment told me more than I needed to know.”

“He recognised it,” Castiel said quietly. “Oh, God. He recognised it.”

Balthazar nodded. “I don’t think anyone saw him, he came back to his senses immediately, but he definitely knows the bird that had left the feather. It may be a matter of time because they make him reveal the truth.”

The thought of Dean realising his favourite falcon, the one he treated almost as his own, was in fact a shapeshifter – and could be anyone, whether Dean knew them or not – felt like a heavy blow to Castiel’s head. He never wanted Dean to find out the truth like that. He should be the one to decide when and how to tell him.

And now, because of his recklessness, he may never have a chance.

“What do I do?” he asked.

Balthazar stepped closer and put a hand on his shoulder. Normally, Castiel would back away and immediately drop into a bow, but with all that he learned in the last few minutes, he barely even remembered it was a knight he was talking with.

“Your friends have nothing to say for now, or at least nothing they want to say, and the king doesn’t have any proof. I think they’re going to let them go until they find something. The king will probably start looking for a way to find the shifter as soon as possible, so you realise there was never a worse time to shift.” When Castiel nodded, Balthazar smiled. “I have no way of knowing whether the king will find something. If he doesn’t, I believe he may become frustrated and act recklessly. He can do anything.”

“I know,” Castiel said. “Is there something we can do?”

“Well, you could leave here as soon as possible,” Balthazar said, “and I would join you. But even now I realise it’s probably not something you’re interested in.”

“My whole life is here,” Castiel said. Dean is here, he thought, but didn’t say it out loud.

“That’s what I thought. We could also hope the king will tire of the search and give up, but I’m afraid we would be fools to think that. I must say, it’s difficult for me to think of any other ideas now, so I think we should just wait for the situation to evolve and see what happens next.”

“But what if they don’t let Dean go?”

Balthazar shook his head. “They will, for now. They could end up coming back for him, trying to break answers out of him, but I don’t think the king is that desperate yet. You still have some time.”

“To do what?”

Balthazar sent him a knowing look. “To tell Dean the truth.”

Castiel stepped away. “Why? If he knows, they’ll find a way to tear it out of him. I won’t endanger him like that.”

“And if he doesn’t know, he will finally admit he knows which bird it belongs to.”

“But they will have no way of ever finding it. I will not shift,” Castiel said.

“Which is why they will find another kestrel falcon,” Balthazar said calmly. “They may imprison it. They may kill it. Do you want to see other birds killed just because of you?”

Castiel recoiled. “They would have no way of knowing the shifter is even in an animal form—”

“And do you think the king would care about that?” Balthazar shrugged. “Because I don’t. If he becomes desperate enough, he won’t back away from anything.”

“I don’t think telling Dean the truth can change that,” Castiel said slowly. “What if he reveals my secret to the king himself?”

“Do you really believe that?” Balthazar arched a sceptical eyebrow.

Castiel looked away. “I have no way of knowing how Dean would behave. We’ve known each other for years and I never told him about it. He may not want to know me.”

“Or he may understand,” Balthazar said. “Anyway, the decision belongs to you. Whether you tell him or not, we still have no ideas on how to fix the problem. I will look for a way and contact you when I know more. For now, you should go and stay out of trouble.”

Castiel nodded slowly. “But if Dean isn’t—”

“He will be alright for now, believe me. If not, we’ll also find a way to prove he’s innocent.”

Castiel took a deep breath. “Thank you. I’m not sure why you’re helping me, but thank you anyway. I will be indebted to you, sir.” He bowed his head.

Balthazar put a finger to his chin and lifted it. He was smirking. “I can already think of two ways how you could repay me. First, stop with all the bowing and “sirs”. I have had enough of that. We’re equal.”

Castiel wanted to argue, but the glint in Balthazar’s clever eyes stopped him.

“Of course,” he said with a small smile of his own. “And second?”

“Second.” Balthazar stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I still have no idea what your name is.”

Before Castiel could stop himself, he started laughing.

***

It was with a heavy heart that Castiel knocked on Dean’s door that evening. It was a new feeling – he usually associated visits to the Winchesters with joy and good times, but things had changed since the last time he had been here.

Today, Dean would learn the truth about him.

He didn’t need to knock twice before the door opened and he saw Dean. Despite what he had gone through during the day, Dean looked as good as ever, and when he saw Castiel standing outside, his entire face lit up with a smile.

“Cas! God, it’s good to see you,” he said and ushered him inside.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said. “Are you—”

He didn’t finish because Dean chose this moment to wrap his arms around Castiel and hug him close, right there where they stood on the doorstep of his house. Castiel exhaled loudly, surprised, but hugged him back just as firmly, even hiding his face in Dean’s shoulder for a second and breathing him in. Dean didn’t embrace him often, but when he did, it was always hard to let go of him.

They pulled apart far too soon and Castiel tried to blink back the emotions he was sure were visible in his eyes. Dean kept his hands on his shoulders and looked at him with a warm smile.

“You always know when I need company, don’t you,” he said.

Castiel wished he could go back into his arms and stay there forever instead of having to say anything to Dean that could ruin his day further.

“That is why you still keep me around,” he said, aiming for levity but sounding strained even to his own ears.

Dean’s smile softened. “Yeah. Of course.”

They went inside the house, Dean closing the door behind Castiel and offering him tea and something to eat. Castiel didn’t think he could stomach anything right now, not with how nervous he felt, but he asked for tea. While Dean busied himself by the tiny stove, Castiel sat down at the table by the window and looked around the house.

“Where is Sam?”

Dean glanced at him over his shoulder. “Working. I’m afraid he’s going to be quite busy in the coming days.”

“Is it because of the…” Castiel didn’t manage to say it out loud, but one look at Dean’s face confirmed it.

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. He passed Castiel his tea and sat down in front of him with his own mug. “How much do you know?”

More than I should, Castiel thought. Out loud, he said, “Bits and pieces. I first learned anything was going on from Jack and Samandriel, and it was still mostly a rumour then.”

Dean nodded. “Alright then, I’ll start from the beginning. I was in the tower with Cain, as usual, when—”

Castiel held up his hand. “Wait. First, could you please tell me if you’re in any trouble at all?”

Dean smiled. “Not right now, no. The king doesn’t have any proof, even if we were somehow involved in this. But there’s more,” he added as his smile slipped. “I’ll get to that later.”

I know, Castiel wanted to say. But you don’t know the whole truth.

“Anyway, as I said, it’s morning as usual in the tower, Cain being a grumpy bastard and all that, when suddenly there are guards coming up. With barely any explanation, they grab both of us and lead us in front of the king. Benny is there, and a few others, but they barely look at me as we’re pushed into the throne room. King Michael is on the throne and he looks angry, but what rattles me more is Lord Gordon standing right beside him, smiling as if he’s just been appointed the king’s right hand or something. You remember him, right?”

“Yes, I remember,” he said because Dean stopped talking and waited for his answer. “The one that is mistreating his peregrine.”

“Yes,” Dean said, then frowned. “Did I ever mention it was a peregrine?” Castiel’s heart stopped. “Well, it doesn’t matter.” Dean dismissed any doubt he had almost immediately and Castiel breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “You can imagine my confusion upon seeing him there and looking like that.

“They put shackles on us, as if we were already deemed criminals,” Dean continued, “and then the king asks us, without preamble, if we’re aware of the presence of a shapeshifter in the castle.”

Castiel looked away, unable to meet Dean’s eyes as he told him about it.

“Obviously, we’re in shock. We look at each other and Cain says, ‘No, Your Highness, we’re not’ and Lord Gordon all but calls him a liar. Well, maybe not that, exactly, but they just keep asking us all those questions and finally Cain asks, ‘What is this about, anyway?’ and only then does the king tell us they discovered a shapeshifter in the falconry tower last night but it managed to escape before they could catch it. Apparently, they also found a glove that supposedly was used by the shifter, a falconer’s glove. I instantly recognise it as one of mine, but we both keep quiet about it, not knowing what we are being accused of.

“So they continue to question us and we just keep telling them that we don’t know anything about it, that this is the first time we’ve heard about anything like that. The king straight up asks if one of us is a shifter or, if not, if we know anyone that is. We deny everything, of course. Cain tells the king he has known him for many years and was never disappointed in his work before, and that he can vouch for me with his life. Lord Gordon doesn’t look convinced, but the king lets it go, for now. They just keep asking us questions about other birds, but we don’t give them anything. I almost start hoping that will be the end, but then the lord produces a feather out of his cape and shows it to the king.”

Castiel swallowed, but didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure he could trust his voice.

“At first we’re all unimpressed – it’s just a feather. We see those every day. The lord says he was the one visiting his bird at the tower when he heard a human voice, but when he climbed the stairs, he only saw a bird flying out the window. The feather and the glove, he says, were all that was left of it, which of course made him believe it must have been a shifter.

“Cain comments that the feather could belong to any of the birds in the tower, and Lord Gordon and the king agree and ask whether he recognises which one it is. Cain says he doesn’t, but he will be happy to find out. Then they turn to me with the same question.”

Dean paused, took a few big gulps of his tea, and met Castiel’s eyes with a small, sad smile.

“Now this is the part when it gets ugly,” Dean said quietly. “Because, Cas, when I looked at the feather, I immediately knew which bird it belonged to.”

Castiel took a deep breath. Now would be a good time to interrupt him and confess everything. But as Castiel looked at Dean’s disappointed face, he couldn’t make himself say the words.

“You don’t mean…” he said instead, lowering his eyes to try to hide the truth.

“I do.” Dean stood up so suddenly, the movement made the untouched tea spill from Castiel’s mug. Castiel followed him with his gaze, noticing his tense shoulders and hands balled up in fists. “Cas, I’m almost entirely sure the feather belongs to the kestrel I told you about so many times. And that means that if the lord isn’t lying about the shifter…”

“...the kestrel is not what you thought it was,” Castiel finished in a quiet voice.

Dean turned to him, his face now flushed with anger. “That’s right. And why would Lord Gordon lie? He could lie just to get into the king’s good graces, but his lie would be revealed sooner or later, when the shifter wasn’t found. Which only means that yes, the bird I spend half my working hours with, the one I train with in my free time, the one I talk with about almost everything… That bird is not a bird at all.”

Castiel willed himself to keep his face as blank as possible. “Is that… Does that make you angry?”

It was a stupid question, of course, because all it took was one look at Dean’s face to see how he felt. But Castiel had no idea what else he could say.

“Of course it does!” Dean plopped back into the chair opposite Castiel and hid his face in his hands. His next words came out muffled. “I’ve known him for months, years even. You know very well, Cas, because I always talk about him. If I ever thought about owning a bird of my own, it would be either him or no bird at all. And now I think about all those days I trained with him, how he sat on my wrist and ate out of my hand, how I let him sit on my shoulder and… and how I, I don’t know, scratched his stupid head and he seemed so comfortable with me…”

Castiel’s heart ached at the distress in Dean’s voice, and he longed to reach out, touch him, make him feel better – but at the same time he wished he could run away and not listen to Dean say anything else. It was too much.

“All this time it wasn’t just a bird. It was someone, it was an actual person, one that I don’t know. And I had no idea. You’re asking if it makes me angry, Cas?” Dean looked up and met Castiel’s eyes. “It makes me furious. The thought of doing all those things with a stranger, and one that doesn’t have the courage to reveal the truth, even after all those years… Yes, I’m angry, and I’m hurt, and I’m embarrassed as hell, Cas.”

Something in Castiel’s chest shattered at Dean’s words, but he still reached out and brushed Dean’s hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

“It’s not your fault, Dean,” he whispered. “You don’t have to be embarrassed—”

Dean pulled his hand with an angry huff. “I know it’s not my fault. How could I have known?”

Castiel nodded. “Exactly. And maybe, just maybe, the shifter, if there even is one, had a reason not to reveal himself…”

“Of course he had a reason,” Dean spat. “He knew that if the king ever discovered who he was, he’d be killed.”

Castiel hid his hands beneath the table so that Dean couldn’t see the way they shook. He didn’t say anything.

“And honestly, right now, I kind of wish they find him,” Dean said.

Castiel stared at him. He opened his mouth but no sound emerged.

If he thought Dean’s previous words made him sad, these were like a vicious cold blade run straight through his heart.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Dean said with a sigh. He stood up again, grabbed both his and Castiel’s full tea mug, and carried them over to the bucket filled with water. “If you were in my place, you’d feel the same.”

“I… don’t know about that,” Castiel uttered.

“You know I would never want to see any bird harmed in any way,” Dean continued as if he didn’t hear him. “But this is not a bird, Cas. It’s a criminal, a liar, and a coward. Shapeshifters have no place in our country. They’re not natural.”

Before he realised what he was doing, Castiel stood up so quickly he sent the chair falling to the ground. Dean glanced at him from where he was washing the mugs, eyes alight with emotions Castiel had never seen him display.

“You don’t mean that,” Castiel whispered.

Dean put back the mugs and reached for a piece of cloth to wipe his hands. He avoided Castiel’s eyes.

“Yeah, I do,” he said. “A law is a law, Cas. There’s a reason they’re banned.”

“The reason is the king’s bigotry,” Castiel said with feeling. “The reason is the king’s hatred for what he doesn’t understand.”

“None of us understand it!” Dean threw the cloth on the table. “That’s the truth, Cas. If shapeshifters were safe, they would live among us like normal people. But they don’t.”

“Because the king hunts them down like animals!”

“Well, they are animals, aren’t they?” Dean shrugged, this one gesture of indifference hurting even more than his words.

Castiel shook his head, but couldn’t find the words to speak out loud. It wasn’t just about his secret anymore – they way Dean talked about shapeshifters in general, his hatred and prejudice, were too much for Castiel to handle at the moment. He needed to be far, far away from him now, before he broke down completely.

“I need to go,” was all he said. He didn’t look at Dean, couldn’t look at Dean as he headed towards the door.

“Cas, wait,” Dean called after him. For a split second, Castiel hoped he would say he didn’t mean any of what he had just said, but then Dean asked, “Why do you care so much, anyway?”

Castiel whirled and glared at him. “Because I’m not completely heartless.”

“Cas, don’t you get it? He lied to me, he used me for years, and I was naive enough to fall for that!”

“You have no idea what his motives were,” Castiel said. “You know literally nothing about him, and yet you continue to make hurtful and discriminatory remarks. You’re no better than the king.”

“Cas, just wait for a moment— Cas!”

Dean continued calling after him, but Castiel left the little house, slamming the door behind him, before Dean could see the unshed tears in his eyes.