Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dean stretches his arms high over his head as the credits roll on the TV Screen. He yawns and turns to see Castiel with his gaze on him.

“So?” he asks. He doesn’t mind so much to almost have fallen asleep while watching Raiders, it’s not like he hasn’t seen it before. Hell, everything they watch, it’s because he’s seen it before.

“It lacked accuracy,” Castiel answers, which makes Dean chuckle.

“Yeah, well, it’s not meant to be a history lesson… it’s entertainment.”

Castiel smiles and nods. “I know,” he says, snaking a tentative hand over Dean’s thigh. “Thank you, Dean. I’d been looking forward to this for a long time now,” he adds as he starts leaning forward.

Although the movements are slow and overly prudent, Dean still finds himself surprised when Castiel’s lips land on his. It’s like a short circuit in his brain and he can’t do anything but stay there, frozen on the spot. Until he can move again.

“What the hell?” he blurts, pushing himself backward. He knows he’s overreacting, but it’s a gut reaction, one he has no control over. He’s struggling to breathe, his eyes are wide, and his lips are tingling. Yet none of those feelings come even close to the erratic beatings of his heart.

“I—”

Words can’t seem to pass the barrier of Castiel’s lips as his brows knit together and his cheeks flush red. Dean swallows hard, hating to see what looks like shame on Castiel’s face. He’s unable to decide if it makes the situation less shocking or more.

“I’m sorry…” Castiel soon says, his gaze dropping to the hands he now has clasped over his lap. “I thought—you invited me and then—and then you said ‘that’s a date’, so you know, I thought…”

Dean needs to swallow again before he can even attempt speaking. He thinks back to the previous week, when they made plans for pizza and a movie. Like they always do. His heart drops at the faint memory of maybe having said that it ‘was a date’, not thinking Cas wouldn’t get how it’s just a saying. That Dean hadn’t meant it like that.

Shouldn’t he know this stuff? They’ve known each other forever, there’s no reason this should be happening now. He swallows hard, scrambling to find the right thing to say.

“Cas, buddy… look, I’m—I’m sorry if I—I didn’t—”

“I’m the one who’s sorry, Dean. I was mistaken.” Castiel gets up, looking around as if unsure what to do. “It won’t happen again,” he adds as his gaze locks on the front door and he starts making his way to it.

Doesn’t matter how assertive Castiel sounds, Dean knows better; his best friend is deeply hurt. Dean may be oblivious at times, he still knows Cas wouldn’t have tried to kiss him if he didn’t have actual feelings for him.

Anger starts bubbling low in Dean’s gut; that’s not what he asked for.

Without a word, he gets to his feet to walk into the kitchen. With a trembling hand, he pulls the biggest and sharpest knife from its wooden base. Dean’s breath hitches as he tightens his grip over the handle, dreading what’s to come. It doesn’t matter that there’s no other way to do this, it still feels wrong.

He raises the blade to rest the point against his chest and closes his eyes, ready to strike.

“Dean!”

Castiel’s voice startles Dean, almost enough to make him drop the knife. He looks up to see a frightened Castiel standing there with both his hands up, placating.

“I’m so sorry, Dean… I swear I’ll never try kissing you again. Please, put the knife down. We can talk about this.” Castiel takes a tentative step forward, the shaky smile on his lips all but sincere. “I’d say it’s a bit of an overly dramatic reaction, don’t you think?”

Of course, it is. Or it would be if any of this was real. Dean gives Castiel a reassuring smile even though he knows it’s useless.

“It’s all good, Cas. Don’t worry about it, okay? I promise, I’ll be back in no time,” he says before driving the knife through his own heart.

~ SEVENTEEN MONTHS (24 DAYS) EARLIER ~

Dean scratched the too long scruff on his face before taking another swig from the flask. The porch light of the little blue house was on, meaning his mark hadn’t come back home yet. He may have known where she worked, what he needed was to get the monster in her own home. If he were to confront her at the hospital she worked at, his plan would never work out.

Because inside that house resided the very thing she would do anything to protect, the only reason Dean could ever get what he wanted.

He drank the last of his flask, trying to catch every single drop of the liquor. When nothing came out anymore, Dean harrumphed and threw the tin vessel on the backseat of the Impala. At the same moment, the awaited car came to a stop in the driveway.

“S’about time…”

It didn’t matter that his skin tingled at the mere thought of jumping her, Dean stayed put. He’d been planning this for far too long to just go and be hasty about it. Plus, he had to wait for the babysitter to leave and he couldn’t try getting inside the house before the djinn had gone to bed. If all went as it usually did, an hour should be enough of a delay.

To be on the safe side, Dean waited an hour and a half, grabbing the silver blade he had dipped in lamb’s blood before exiting the car. He’d been staking the place for a long time and he knew how to get in unnoticed; he’d done it many times already. Even with all the preparation in the world, Dean knew he could still end up killing that damn monster, which meant he’d have to keep hunting to find another suitable candidate.

The house was dark and quiet. Dean got in through the side door, the one that led into the small mudroom leading to the kitchen. He made a quick job of picking the lock and walked in, not bothering to turn on the lights. He’d done this enough times to be able to move inside the house with his eyes closed.

He made his way silently through the kitchen, then down the hall, ready to grab anyone – anything – that would come at him. Except nobody did. He entered the room he’d been aiming for and walked up to the bed. The sleeping girl looked normal enough; dark blonde hair, about four years old, cute as a button. None of that mattered. Even if her kind’s markings had yet to appear on her skin, Dean couldn’t forget the child was a monster.

Her looking human was what elicited a pang in Dean’s heart when he grabbed the kid with one arm and sat on the bed, holding her on his lap with the weapon aimed at her neck. He tightened his hold when she let out a shrill – and deceptively human – scream.

“Baby, what’s—”

The mother stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening in fear at the spectacle in her child’s room. Her tattooed-like skin started emitting ethereal blue wisps of her kind’s magic as she prepared to jump Dean. He made sure she could see the knife resting against the daughter’s neck.

“Leave her alone,” the mother hissed, her whole body trembling with rage. “She’s just a kid.”

“She’s a monster. Just like you.”

The djinn’s otherworldly lights dimmed as she worked on calming herself down. She kept her eyes on the blade, her voice shaky when she spoke again. “What do you want from us?”

“Glad you asked,” Dean said as he relaxed his grip on the child, just not enough to set her free. “I’m here to offer you a deal. Sit!” he ordered, pointing his chin at the rocking chair in the corner of the room.

“Let my kid go, all right?”

“Not until I’ve said what I gotta say. Don’t try anything and she won’t get hurt. Capiche?”

The djinn nodded as she sat, giving her daughter a feeble smile she probably hoped was reassuring.

“My name’s Dean Winchester. Heard of me?”

The djinn nodded again, her lips pursed. “You’ve been killing our kind.”

“Oh, sweetheart. Not just your kind,” Dean said, a bitter smile on his lips. “But yeah, lately I’ve mostly been after you guys.”

The child started wiggling to try and get off of Dean. He tightened his hold over her, making sure she couldn’t go anywhere. It was enough for her to start wailing again.

“Tell your kid to shut up,” Dean snarled, his blade catching onto the moonlight as he moved it closer to her throat.

“Carly, honey,” the mother said in a trembling, yet soft voice. “Please calm down, all right? Everything’s gonna be okay.”

As a sole response, Carly extended her arms in the hopes her mom would come to grab here.

“I won’t hurt you, Carly,” Dean said, falsely soothing. Didn’t matter that he would if he had to. He made sure to send a pointed look at the mother, knowing she’d understand what he wasn’t saying.

She obviously did, swallowing hard before speaking again. “You know mommy won’t let anyone hurt you, right? Dean is a friend of mommy’s, he just wants to get to know you.”

Sniffling, Carly turned to Dean. The smile he gave her wasn’t sincere in the slightest, yet it seemed to satisfy her as she turned to her mother again and nodded.

“Good girl,” the djinn said before looking back at Dean. “Now what?”

“Now, we make a deal.”

To be continued…