Sup.

the empty: blocked

gabriel: wait unblock me i need to tell you something

the empty: what

Michael beats Cas to a pulp because he refuses to fight back. When Cas is on his knees, barely able to keep his swollen eyes open, he looks up at michael and speaks with regret and sadness.

He talks directly to Dean, who he knows is in there somewhere. He repeats that Dean is forgiven and that Cas will never blame him for this. Michael yells and punches him in frustration.

Cas begs for Dean to come back; to take control. In one last futile attempt to get his friend back, he whispers, “We need you, Dean. I need you.”

Michael shrieks and staggers back, clutching his head. Cas thinks he can hear dean’s distant scream of effort, but it’s drowned out by the high-pitched ringing sound of an archangel being forced out of its vessel and thrust into an unfamiliar, incompatible world.

The blindingly bright cloud of grace writhes as it begins to dissapate into nothingness. Dean is barely holding himself up, limbs heavy with the absence of Michael.

“Cas,” he gasps, rushing over to crouch beside the bloody figure. He turns Cas’s face with a hand on his cheek, fearing the worst.

He nearly collapses with relief when Cas’s eyes flutter open and his skin knits itself back together. An internal battle takes place between Dean’s usual reaction to something like this, pulling Cas into a tight hug, and what actually happens.

Dean surprises even himself by grabbing the lapels of Cas’s trench coat and yanking him up to smash their mouths together. Once it dawns on Dean what he did, which took all of two seconds, he jerks back in horror.

Cas’s eyebrows draw together and his eyes widen. “Dean?” he says cautiously. He props himself up to a sitting position. Dean realizes he’s still clutching Cas’s coat and quickly lets go.

“Cas, I—“

An apology is ready on Dean’s tongue, but it dies when Cas’s face clears. Then Dean feels a hand clasp his own. Dean blinks and forgets his own name because of Cas’s fond smile.

“You’re back,” Cas says in a soft voice.

“I’m back,” Dean repeats intelligently.

“What broke the connection?”

Dean is thrown back to that night in the crypt where he asked Cas the same question. He understands now why Cas gave him such a lame answer.

Might as well follow the script. “I don’t know.”

Cas quirks an eyebrow. “Yes, you do.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Dean can’t restrain the little hysterical giggle that slips out of his mouth.

“I was only an angel last time.” Dean can’t hold Cas’s piercing gaze. He looks down at their hands. “You’ve has your whole human life to learn emotions.”

“Shut up,” Dean mumbles.

Cas’s voice comes out as a low growl. “Make me.”

Fire lights up in Dean’s stomach. His eyes snap up to Cas’s, which drill straight through to his very core. He’s frozen with indecision.

Cas rolls his eyes. Now it’s his turn to yank Dean forward and attack him with a bruising kiss. This one lasts longer.

The angle is killing Dean’s back, so of course the first solution his fried brain comes up with is to, without breaking contact, get himself into a position where he’s straddling Cas.

Cas doesn’t have an issue with Dean on his lap or holding onto his shoulders for dear life. There’s heat warming his entire body so much he can almost forget they’re on the stone floor of the library. Almost.

He pulls away, just far enough to see the hunger and tears shining in Dean’s eyes. Dean clears his throat. His face is beet red when he pries himself off of Cas.

“I, uh... May-maybe we should go to my, um... my bedroom? I mean, un-unless you don’t want to... uh.”

Dean trails off at the look on Cas’s face. It’s strangely thoughtful.

“When were Sam and Jack intending to return?”

All the blood races out of Dean’s face and goes south. His tongue darts out to lick his lips of its own volition. “Uh... Sam said it would only be a day or two.”

Cas nods slowly, contemplating. “So we have the bunker to ourselves for a while longer?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Cas turns back to Dean, his gaze razor-sharp. “Then I don’t see the point in going anywhere.”

sorry, i try to stay away from mpreg fics.

Here’s the link! I was also inspired to finish this off with a bit of Sabriel, so stay tuned for that in chapter 2… but for now, this fills the prompt :)

Sam had found this case while browsing the internet at six in the morning. He was feeling great, but he was tired of the cold bunker. Dean must have been as well, because he immediately turned and asked Cas’s opinion. All in agreement, they were on the road in ten minutes.

Dean turned the AC on within half an hour of crossing the border into New Mexico. Unfortunately, it had broken and they didn’t have time to stop and fix it, as Sam had already called and said they would be there soon. Cas was getting impatient. By the time they arrived in Roswell, tempers and temperatures were running high.

“Alright,” Dean panted once they’d gotten to the morgue. “Sam, body. Cas, you and me, sheriff. Let’s go.”

Sam flashed his badge for the man at the desk and headed into the back, grateful for the return of air conditioning.

“Dean, do we have to talk to the sheriff?” Cas half-whined as they pulled up to the police station. “Can’t we go get a motel room first?”

“Sorry buddy, we gotta do it now,” Dean put his hand on Cas’s shoulder. “We can go to the motel after. Besides, there’s probably AC in the station.”

Cas sighed dramatically and pointed. “No, they have the windows open.”

Dean chuckled a little. “How ‘bout this, you can stay in the car and wait while I talk to them. You can keep the windows down.”

Cas nodded. Dean clapped him on the thigh and got out of the car. He had his suit jacket over his arm, but it still wasn’t enough to combat the heat.

“Afternoon, sheriff,” Dean pulled out his fake badge. “Agent Collins. I’d like to ask a few questions about the recent death of Lance Kennedy.”

“Sure thing.”

Cas had never been in real heat. Most of the cases he’d tagged along for with the Winchesters since being human were in the northern half of the country. While it wasn’t exactly cold there most of the time, this was just sweltering.

Dean walked out of the station unbuttoning his shirt with one hand and holding a phone to his ear with the other. “Hey, Sammy. I got some info on Kennedy. Meet me at the…” He trailed off as he reached the car. “Call me back.”

Dean fumbled with the keys and threw open the passenger’s side door. Cas appeared to be asleep, but something was wrong. His face was very red and he was drenched in sweat. He stirred a little when Dean opened the door, but he merely mumbled and blinked slowly.

“Cas!” Dean exclaimed upon recognizing these symptoms.

Cas needed to lose his extra layers of clothing. Dean hesitated, then decided Cas’s wellbeing was more important than the awkwardness it would lead to. He carefully untucked Cas’s arms from the trenchcoat and threw it aside. Then Dean removed his suit jacket, tie, shoes, and socks, leaving just a shirt and pants on.

“Alright,” Dean said, mostly to himself, but he guessed that it wouldn’t hurt to try to calm Cas down if he was still conscious. He buckled Cas up, went around to the driver’s side, and started the car. They found a motel within five minutes. Hopefully the sign that said it had air conditioning was true.

“You awake, buddy?” Dean asked once they’d parked. Cas mumbled something incomprehensible. Dean sighed and put one of Castiel’s arms over his shoulders. He half-carried Cas up to the door, then set him down on the bed.

Dean put a hand on Cas’s forehead. It was still burning hot and sweaty. Dean ran a hand through his own hair, looking around. He glanced back at Cas, then ran out to get some ice.

While waiting for the bath to fill, Dean looked at his phone. He had several texts from Sam, but he didn’t type anything back. Instead, he called.

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam demanded, “Last I heard from you, it sounded like someone had died!”

“Sorry, man,” Dean rubbed his temple. “Cas passed out from the heat. I got him to a motel and I’m running an ice bath.”

Sam still sounded annoyed, but his voice softened. “Alright. Text me the address. I’ll buy an ice pack and some bottles of water. Make sure you cool him down slowly.”

Dean smiled and turned off the faucet. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean shook his shoulder. “Gotta get you cooled down.”

“Dean,” Cas muttered weakly.

Dean hauled Cas to his feet and helped him into the tiny bathroom. Cas stumbled a bunch.

“Idiot,” Dean said without anger, “Wearing three layers of clothes in this weather.”

“Angel.”

Dean understood. Cas had never needed to worry about himself before. His grace used to keep him clean and content. He’d never even changed out of the outfit Jimmy Novak had last worn.

“Cas, you gotta take your clothes off and get into the bath.” Dean ignored the blush creeping up his face. Unfazed, Cas started to strip. Dean abruptly looked away until Cas was in his underwear and sinking into the water. He shivered a bit, but said nothing.

Sam arrived shortly after, his arms filled with plastic water bottles and a couple ice packs. Cas gladly accepted the water. Dean wrapped a pack in a washcloth and placed it on Cas’s forehead, determinedly keeping his eyes on his own hand and not Cas.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said shakily a few minutes later, after he’d gotten out of the bath and wrapped a towel around himself.

“No problem, buddy.” Dean smiled shortly and directed his attention back to his phone, where he was looking at a text from the sheriff.

“I mean it.” Dean looked back up at Cas, whose face matched the sincerity of his voice.

“Hang on, gotta take this,” he said with a puzzled and worried expression.

Sam watched after him and caught words like “yes ma’am” and “oh god”.

Dean walked back into the library looking somber. “What’s up?” Sam asked.

“An ex of mine just died,” Dean collapsed in a chair.

Sam leaned forward earnestly. “Oh man, I’m so sorry. What was her name?”

Dean hesitated. “Uh, Max.”

Sam nodded. “Was that her mom?”

“Yeah… She invited me to the funeral. We don’t have to go…” Dean fidgeted with his coat.

“Where is it?” Sam stood up and grabbed his coat.

Dean looked up. “You… You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Why not? How far?”

“...Oregon.”

They set off immediately. Sam knew Dean would be torn up about going to this funeral, but he was pretty tense the whole ride there. He gripped the steering wheel and glanced nervously over at Sam every few minutes. About half an hour before they arrived, Dean stopped at a gas station, probably to just wash his face and psych himself up for it.

When they finally got to Max’s house, Dean took a deep breath and turned to Sam, “You sure about this?”

Sam half smiled. “It’s your ex. Are you ready?”

Dean took another shaky breath. “Yeah… Yeah.”

Max’s mother greeted them. She was a short old woman who hugged Dean and ushered both men inside.

“Sorry we didn’t change into black suits,” Dean said once they’d sat down in the living room amidst the other visitors. “We left as soon as we could. There wasn’t time.”

“Oh, it’s alright, dears,” She said, patting Dean’s arm, “You got here, that’s all that matters. I know you two are so hardworking with this monster business.”

Sam shot Dean an incredulous look. He’d not only told this girl, but her mother too?

“Yes, ever since Dean saved my dear Max from those shapeshifters, we’ve been on the lookout for you two.”

Okay, so Dean had had no choice. Sam relaxed a bit. They chatted for a little while longer, but then Max’s mother was called away.

“The casket’s open if you want to go see Max,” She added as she left.

Dean got up, hands shaking. He led the way to the other room where mourners gathered around Max. But Sam had to hold back a gasp as he looked down into the coffin. Max had short black hair, a strong chin, and, most surprisingly of all, Max was a man. Dean looked up at Sam with fear in his eyes.

“So…” Sam’s mind was racing. Dean dated a guy? Sam had known he was bi ever since they’d met Cas, but he thought Dean had denied it the whole time. “This is Max?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Oh,” Dean looked back down at the body, avoiding Sam’s eye.

“Well,” Sam said after they’d gotten back in the car.

“What?”

“You didn’t tell me you were bi,” Sam picked his words cautiously.

“That I was what?”

“Bi,” Sam repeated. “You know, bisexual?”

“What’s that?”

“It means you like two or more genders.”

Dean’s face lit up. “That’s a thing? I thought I was just gay sometimes.”

“Why haven’t you told Cas?”

Dean’s face flushed bright red. “Why would I? The hell does he care?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dude, really? I know you love him.”

“I-wha… What?” Dean sputtered.

Sam looked at him. “C’mon. Max looked so much like Cas. How long?”

Dean kicked a rock as he walked down the street. It skipped across the wet pavement with small splashes. Dean’s hair was sopping wet from rain, which was making its way down into his eyes, but he didn’t bother wiping them off. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Cas’s words rang in his ears and drowned out all other sound. Dean sat against the side of a building, water soaking through his jeans. He put his head in his hands.

He’d never had a chance. He had gotten his hopes up, even though he’d known it could only lead to disappointment. It was stupid, really, to have thought Cas might reciprocate his feelings. Dean looked up at the sky, the rain mixing with his tears. So all those lingering touches, fond smiles, long stares… they were just Cas being Cas, after all. Nothing more. After he’d overheard Cas’s conversation with Naomi, Dean suddenly realized how dumb he’d been to think that he actually meant something more than a friend to Cas.

Dean’s hands were starting to get numb from cold, but he didn’t care. It was nothing compared to how his heart felt. He vaguely heard someone running, their splashing footfalls approaching him, but didn’t bother to look back. He shivered as he stood up and continued on in no particular direction, eyes on ripples in puddles.

“Dean!” Oh god. It was Cas running toward him. Dean sped up, blinking away tears. “Dean, wait!”

“What do you want, Cas?” Dean turned around and said in a tight voice.

“I know what you heard, but I didn’t mean it!” Cas panted. Did he run all the way from his house?

“Sure sounded like it,” Dean glared at Cas’s shoes. He couldn’t bear to look him in the eye.

“Dean, you have no idea what Naomi would’ve done if I’d told her the truth.” Cas sounded like he was panicking a moment before.

“The… the truth?” Dean stuttered.

Cas responded by pressing his lips to Dean’s. Dean almost pulled away in shock, but Cas had his hands held firmly on Dean’s face. After getting over himself, he kissed Cas back. The tight knot in his chest suddenly melted, making way for a fresh avalanche of emotion. He sobbed as he kissed Cas desperately, unfortunately making him pull away.

“Are you okay?” Cas knit his eyebrows in that cute way he always did. Then he blinked and looked away. “I… I’m sorry, I thought-”

“Don’t you dare stop.” Dean pulled him back into a kiss. Cas recoiled from the hands on his face.

“My god, you’re freezing!” He pulled Dean to the nearest shop. As Dean stood, shivering dripping on the doormat, Cas took off his trench coat and wrapped it around Dean.

Dean smiled weakly. “Thanks, Cas.”

Cas beamed back. “I love you.”

Jack woke with a start one night. He wasn’t quite sure why at first, but then he heard it again: a shout from Dean’s room. Jack flung the covers off and walked out of his room quietly. He hit his hip against a cabinet next to his door with a loud thunk. He winced but continued on, clutching his side, toward the source of the shout. As he got closer to Dean, he could start to make out what he was saying.

“Cas, no! Please… not Cas…”

Jack grabbed the handle, but it was locked. He glared at the door for a moment, then it clicked open. He burst into the room to see Dean thrashing in his bed, still shouting, “Cas! Don’t hurt him… please…” Jack made his way over to the bed and put his hand on Dean’s forehead. Dean opened his eyes, still panting.

They surveyed each other for a moment. “What do you want?” Dean rubbed his face, trying to hide it.

Jack knit his brow at the action, but didn’t comment on it. “You were shouting.”

Dean wiped his cheeks and avoided Jack’s eyes. “Oh.”

Jack still stared. “Were you having a nightmare?”

“Yeah, I…” Dean sniffed. “You’ve… never had one before, have you?”

“No, I haven’t. Only a couple of dreams. What happened? What’s it like?”

“Well, it’s like a dream, but everything is like, amplified.” Dean calmed down a bit more once he got talking. “So everything that happens is about a hundred times scarier. It usually involves someone close to you.”

“You were shouting Castiel’s name.”

“Was-was I?” Dean fidgeted.

“Yes. You consider him close to you?” Jack sat on the bed.

“Yeah… yeah, I guess so.” Dean looked down.

Jack thought for a moment. “Do you love him?”

Dean coughed in surprise. “What?”

“Do you love him?” Jack repeated, his eyes boring into Dean.

“I…” Dean started to shake a little.

“What’s the matter?”

Dean flinched at the words. They reminded him of one of the first things Cas had ever said to him. “It’s just… a comp-complicated question.”

“Not really. So… do you?”

“I, um. I-I don’t-”

“It’s okay.” Jack realized that, for whatever reason, this was very difficult for Dean. He changed the subject. “How about you just… tell me about the nightmare?”

Dean sighed. “Okay. Well, I… I was in a room. No doors or windows, just two chairs facing each other. I was in one, and Cas was in the other. Then someone appeared from somewhere and started to…” Dean didn’t think the concept of torture would be good to introduce Jack to quite yet. “...hurt him. Not me. Just… just Cas. And… Cas said it was my fault.”

“And it wasn’t?”

“No. Before they started, the person hurting him asked me who they should do it to, me or Cas. I chose myself, but then they took the knife to Cas. And Cas…”

“You were willing to endure great pain so Castiel didn’t have to?”

“Yeah… Of course.”

“Unquestionably… that sounds like love.” Jack raised his eyebrows.

Dean chuckled nervously. “Yeah… Yeah, I guess it does.”

“So you do love him.”

Dean buried his head in his hands. “Jack, please leave.”

Jack looked taken aback. “Are you… crying?” He gingerly put his hand on Dean’s arm and sat down next to him. To his surprise, Dean leaned into him, resting his head weakly on Jack’s shoulder.

“It’s my fault.” Dean whispered. He couldn’t speak any louder without releasing a sob.

“Castiel’s death was not your fault.”

“I could’ve stopped him. If Sam hadn’t held me back…”

“If you had gone with Castiel you’d both be dead. It was his decision. Don’t worry, we’ll bring him back.” Jack looked down at Dean, who was breathing heavily.

Metatron may have downloaded all pop culture knowledge ever into Castiel’s head, but he had still never experienced watching or reading it for himself. He’d never stayed up past 6am in a movie marathon or counted down the days til the season finale of his favorite show. So Dean made it his goal to help him do all of it.

“Cas, you wanna watch a movie?” They were both sitting at the library table researching. Sam had taken his stuff to his room a while ago.

“Which one?” Cas closed his book and looked up with interest.

“Star Wars?”

Cas smiled. “Yes, I would like that.” They got up and walked into Dean’s room, where he set up the TV, pulled some blankets and pillows onto the floor at the foot of his bed, and invited Cas to sit next to him.

Halfway through Episode IV, Cas rested his head on Dean’s shoulder and took his hand. Dean smiled and said, “Don’t fall asleep, you gotta watch the rest!”

“I already know how it ends,” Cas settled in closer.

“You’ve never SEEN it, though.”

Cas rolled his eyes but kept them open. He stayed awake through the rest of IV and the beginning of V, but he finally fell asleep with his head in Dean’s lap. Dean turned off the TV and sat there for a while, listening to Castiel snore and playing with his hair. Eventually, they were both asleep.

Sam woke them up with the smell of eggs and bacon seeping into their room. Dean hated to leave this comfortable position, but his stomach growled. He pulled Cas up and they both left for the kitchen.

“How’d research go last night?” Sam already suspected the answer, due to Castiel’s ruffled hair and Dean’s giddy expression.

“We watched the Star Wars episodes four and five,” Cas explained while Dean shoveled food into his mouth.

“Don’t you know the plot of like, every movie ever?” Sam asked, also sitting down and taking a bite of eggs.

“Yeah, but he’s never WATCHED them,” Dean defended with a full mouth.

Sam nodded. “Fair enough. Gonna see more this evening?”

“Nah, man. We only stopped for breakfast. After this, it’s right back to it.” Dean explained proudly.

Cas wore a puzzled expression. “Why?”

“It’s called a marathon. Gotta keep going.” There was finality in Dean’s voice, along with some bacon.

Once again the two men sat in front of the TV in Dean’s room. Cas smiled at the dated special effects for Luke using the Force, then raised his hand and summoned the popcorn bowl over to him. Dean laughed - a loud giggle, showing not a care in the world, just happiness. Music to Castiel’s ears.

(trigger warning: child abuse, homophobia, homophobic slurs)

There were two thing you weren’t allowed to do in the Winchester household: argue with John and ask questions. So of course, as soon as Sam could think for himself, he did both. Dean would always try to shush him. But Sam was persistent, and he would often ignore Dean’s warnings.

One day they as they walked to their motel room, Sam spotted a gay couple. “Dad, why are those men holding hands?” This was Dean’s first time seeing something like this, too. He was curious too, so he stayed silent.

John was suddenly hostile. He grabbed both boys by the shoulders and turned them away from the couple, into their room. “You listen to me, boys.” He crouched down to their eye level with a furious look in his eyes. “Never even look at faggots like them. They’re unnatural.”

“Why?” Dean wasn’t quick enough to stop Sam.

John grabbed him by the collar. “Don’t question me, son.” Sam nodded his head reluctantly. Dean glanced over at the couple again through the window after John released Sam. They didn’t seem that bad. But Dad said they were, and Dean had to listen.

~~~~~

That memory from years ago flashed vividly in Dean’s mind as he looked up at his new friend, Castiel. The other sixteen-year-old was a bit strange, but Dean liked him. He had a unique way of seeing things and wasn’t afraid to express it, unlike everyone else who just wanted to fit in. Cas was the happiest person Dean had ever met.

But every time Cas smiled or gazed at him with those bright blue eyes, Dean felt a twinge of fear. As good as it made Dean feel to think about, he knew they couldn’t end up like those two men in the motel. John would be furious, maybe even disown him. Dean couldn’t let himself get too attached.

But Dean stuck around Cas nonetheless. They soon started hanging out after school. The library, the grocery store, anywhere Dean could tell John he went without needing to say there was someone with him. Sam never knew about it, only that they ate together at lunch.

There was one close call. Cas smiled at Dean a little too much at the library once and reached out to touch his hand. Dean moved it to cough into and put it in his pocket, pretending he hadn’t seen. Cas paused for a moment, then continued studying in silence.

~~~~~

The evening marking a whole month of them staying in the same place wasn’t any different from the others at first. John ordered pizza, which Dean scarfed down quick. Sam on the other hand was in a talkative mood.

“Dad, why don’t you like gay people?” Dean tried to catch Sam’s eye as he shook his head, but Sam was staring expectantly at John.

“People shouldn’t like other people of the same gender. It’s not natural, just like the stuff we hunt.” John didn’t look at Sam, just at his plate.

“But they’re just people! How can they be as bad as monsters?”

“Because they are! Now shut up and eat your food!” John slammed his fists on the table. Dean flinched, holding back tears. “You got something to say, boy?”

Dean blinked hard and replied, “No, sir.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

~~~~~

Dean stopped talking to Cas. Whenever Cas approached Dean, he would be brushed off. Dean even moved to a different table at lunch.

Cas endured three days of the silent treatment, but then he couldn’t take it anymore. He confronted Dean after school, a few feet down the street from the building.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Cas demanded, gripping Dean by the shoulders. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” Dean said, trying to free himself, but Cas was stronger than he looked.

“Then why?” Dean wouldn’t meet his eye. Then Cas saw his cheeks were wet with tears. He pulled Dean to sit down and slid his hands down to Dean’s.

Dean tried to pull away. Castiel held on. “I just can’t, Cas,” He said weakly.

“Can’t what?”

“My dad, he would hate me.”

“If he was a good father, he’d love you unconditionally. But he’s obviously not, so it doesn’t matter what he thinks. Tell me what’s wrong. I can help.” Cas stroked Dean’s hands with his thumbs reassuringly.

“You don’t understand!” Dean’s voice cracked. “He’d hit me, disown me, if he found out that I…” He stopped in horrified realization, then looked up at Castiel.

“That you what?” Cas persisted. He was so close.

“That I…” Dean took a shaky breath. “That I love you.” He braced himself for Cas to laugh and ridicule him. Instead, the absolute best and worst thing happened: Cas kissed him.

It was like a huge weight lifted off his chest. In that moment, Dean’s life was perfect. And then that moment came to a jarring end at the sound of the Impala.

Dean stood up quickly, moving between Cas and John, who was seething with rage. “You faggot son of a bitch. You… my own son…” He was talking to Cas, not Dean.

Sam ran out of the car to stand with Dean. “Stop!”

John smacked him to the ground. He was too shocked to get up until Dean grabbed him by the arm, still watching John advance. “Dad, no!”

John stopped dead. “What did you say?” Sam looked up at Dean in awe; he’d never stood up to Dad before.

“I said stop.” Dean was trembling but his voice was sure. “Sam didn’t know. And it’s not his fault-” He jerked his head towards Castiel. “-it was me. Don’t hurt him, please!”

John struck Dean. He’d been hit, bitten, and scratched by monsters before, but nothing hurt more than being punched by his father. Dean would have crumpled to the ground if Castiel hadn’t caught his arm. But Cas was forced to drop him because John moved to hit him next.

Dean almost screamed in protest, but Cas surprised him for the second time that day. He caught John’s fist and twisted until John was on his knees. His eyes seemed to be glowing.

Dean was so fixated on what they were doing that he didn’t register someone shouting in the distance. Not until she ran up to John and handcuffed him. She spoke into the police radio on her shoulder, speaking in a code that probably meant “child abuse”.

A second police officer walked up to the boys as John was shoved into a cruiser, his protests ignored. “You three alright? We got an ambulance on the way to help with that.” He waved his hand at Dean and Sam’s faces.

“Yeah, we’ve had worse,” Sam said without thinking. Dean nudged him.

The officer just nodded. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Was that your father?”

“Ours, not his.” Dean pointed to Sam, then Cas.

“You got a mother or someone else we can call?”

“Well, there’s Bobby,” Dean suggested, one hand interlaced with Cas’s, the other on Sam’s shoulder. He dialed Bobby’s number on the officer’s phone and handed it back.

Five minutes later, they were in the cruiser on their way to Bobby’s. Cas has also called his parents, but he decided to go with them for the time being.