dappered | (no subject)

[ At first, the angel fought. Held his metaphorical ground against the rising tides of monster souls sucking at his will like waves crashing against a levee. They were such small, predatory things, howling and yipping, and they knew nothing of patience. The angel held himself like a stone and allowed them to break over him, unchanged. The angel was old. He knew how to weather storms.

Leviathan was older. They came in like rain, whispering softly in the dark when the angel could not help but listen, when he felt suffocated by the sticky sweet embrace of his own affections for a tiny, fragile human. The howling multitudes of Purgatory would not move him but a single, simple question, how far will you go to save him made the angel flinch, made him shudder with doubt. Humans were so breakable. Anything could erase them, anything at all.

Angels were made for flight. Leviathan drew him into the deep water, lured by promises of strength and safety, and proceeded to drown him. The angel had used them as a battery, a power source, now they would use the angel in turn, wear him like a puppet and cage his Grace deep down inside his own core. Black ink ran through the angel's veins as Leviathan stretched their tentacles, rolled their neck and smiled delightedly.

The human called Dean Winchester raged at them, not understanding that it was already too late, yelling at Castiel to give up the souls and put them back where they had come from, like Castiel could still be saved. Leviathan purred at him, pushing into his space and backing him to the opposite wall while the doorway to Purgatory shrank and shrank. Dean smelled like any human, meat and bone and sweat, and underneath it anger and love and even terror. Sentimentality. The same sentimentality that had given Leviathan freedom.

They would have to reward him.

'Don't do this, Cas,' Dean said, desperate.

Leviathan laughed in his face, banished Sam and Bobby from the room with a snap of fingers and stopped the flow of profanity with a ravaging kiss, shucking the ink-stained trenchcoat casually. ]

Sorry, sweetheart.

[ Cas's voice, Cas's blue eyes and his strong, deft hands undoing the top buttons of his ruined white dress shirt, now stained and ragged. Leviathan loosened the silly blue tie and ran a hand through Castiel's dark hair, fingertips smudging black oil wherever they touched. ]

Cas is a little tied up right now. But you and I, mm. [ They eyed Dean hungrily, the vulnerable curve of his throat and places where blood beat close to the surface. ]

We're overdue for a chat, don't you think?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ No. No, Dean refused to accept this. They couldn't lose--not after everything. They didn't stop the Apocalypse for this.

He shook his head, eyes pleading with the the thing that wore the guise of his friend. ]

Cas, man. I know you're in there. You're stronger than this. Fight back! We'll figure this out, but I need you to fight back, man.

[ He had to believe that wherever Sam and Bobby were sent, they were still alive. If Cas let frickin' Crowley go, there was no way he would just kill them, right? They were family. ]

Come on.

[ His voice cracked a little on the last word. ]

[ Leviathan cocked their head, still smiling affably and one hand planted firmly on Dean's chest, holding him to the wall. ]

Oh, Dean. Why should he fight? He's tired. Your expectations are heavy, and he's spent so much time contorting himself into shapes to please you, to protect you. I promised him I'd look after you instead, for a change. Give him a bit of a breather, hm?

[ They leaned in close, lips grazing the shell of Dean's ear, voice a rolling hiss. ]

Don't worry. I'm going to take good care of you.

[ Dean shivered. How much of Cas was even in there anymore? He knew he shouldn't let himself think that, but how lucky were any of them? Cas was so weak earlier and there was no telling what these things had already done to him.

He swallowed thickly, eyes closing as he slumped a little against the wall. ]

Cas, please. We'll fix this, buddy, but you have to come back.

'Please, Cas, please.' [ Leviathan mocked gently, mouthing the words against the side of Dean's neck. ]

I like the sound of that. So does he, deep down in his little tangled melon.

[ That was too much. It set something off in Dean, primal and so wrong, and he pressed back against that hand on his chest, struggling against its touch.

God, if this had really been Cas somehow, he didn't know how he'd respond to that, but this wasn't Cas. Not even close. ]

Give him back! Take something else. Take me!