Jack, watching from his side of the quarterdeck, was wholly amazed: he had no idea that Stephen could hold a sword, nor yet load a pistol, still less knock the pips out of a playing-card at twenty paces: yet he had known him intimately.
He was pleased that his friend was doing so well; he was pleased at the respectful silence; but he was a little sad that he could not join in, that he stood necessarily aloof – the captain could not compete – and he was obscurely uneasy. There was something disagreeable, and somehow reptilian, about the cold, contained way Stephen took up his stance, raised his pistol, looked along the barrel with his pale eyes.
A/N: Let me just start off by saying I am SO sorry this took so long. (Like 3 months, wtf Kait?!?!) I promise I will continue this on a regular basis now that i have the free time, along with all of my other open series. Please let me know what you think. I love hearing from all of you! I hope you guys like it. *bites nails*
Word Count: 2,816
Other Characters: Cas, Charlie
Warnings:
- language. (maybe)
- kind of angsty.
- talk of death.
Tags: (at the end)
*gif is not mine.
Over the next couple of weeks, Dean trained you harder than you’d ever trained before, mentally and physically. Charlie had been keeping close tabs on Crowley for you and, much to your surprise, he hadn’t even left Prophet City. At least, that’s what you were told. She could never get an exact location on him, just bits and pieces from people who were willing to give her information. The tricky part about it all was that his headquarters had moved, but the word on the street was that no one knew where it was. Although Crowley was one huge piece of shit, he was ridiculously smart.
“I think maybe you deserve a break today,” Dean said after you’d finished sparring, putting his gloves away in their proper place. “You’ve been working so hard.”
“I can’t,” you huffed, bending over to try and catch your breath, sweat pouring down your face. “If I’m going to take down Crowley, I need to be strong.”
“You are strong,” Dean replied, walking over to you and taking your face in his hands. “Don’t forget, you’re not doing this on your own.”
“This is my fight,” you snapped quickly, immediately fixing your tone. It wasn’t Dean you were angry with. “I need to be the one to put him down.”
“Understandable,” he agreed, leaning against the cabinet in the gym. “But you know there’s no way I’m letting you waltz in there by yourself, Y/N. We’re in this together, remember? I hate him just as much as you do.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” you sighed, walking towards him and wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest. “I’m sorry. I just think of Jo, yanno?”
“I do.” Dean rubbed circles on the small of your back, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Everything will work out. It just needs to be the right time.”
“ I know. I love Charlie, but maybe we need some on the street intel. No friend of Crowley’s is going to tell anything to a tiny, loud, redheaded woman.”
“You’re right,” Dean said, nodding his head in agreement. “She won’t be pleased, but we need some extra help here.”
“Do you have anyone in mind?”
“I think so,” he said softly, his brow furrowed as he thought hard. “Let me go make a few phone calls.”
“Y/N, this is Castiel,” Dean said with gusto, gesturing to a man in front of him you had never seen in Prophet City before. He was about the same height as Dean, maybe a few inches shorter. His hair was a dark brown, almost black, and equally as dark scruff lined his cheeks. His steel blue eyes were staring directly at you, his eyebrows drawn together in a permanent scowl; or look of confusion, you couldn’t really tell. He was very handsome, but also very intimidating. “He’s my eyes on the streets. His intel has helped me take down some of the worst criminals in Prophet City.”
“Please, call me Cas,” he said, extending his hand out to you, a small smile appearing on his lips. You shook it and his grip was strong, powerful. You knew he couldn’t just be Dean’s eyes on the streets. He was trained, just like Dean was, and you could see it in his posture.
“Cas and I have actually known one another for quite some time,” Dean interjected, his hand resting protectively on the small of your back. “We used to be good partners, friends even. But duty calls elsewhere. Isn’t that right, pal?”
You looked from Dean to Cas, noticing a small bit of tension float between them. You took your hand and squeezed Dean’s bicep, silently signaling for him to behave himself. There were more important things at stake than petty arguments. If it were possible, Cas’ eyebrows formed a deeper v shape, the smile he sported a few seconds earlier slipping away.
“Look,” you said, getting in the middle of them. “I don’t know what your little tiff is about, but that can wait.” You turned to Cas, wringing your hands together, ready to beg. “Cas, we could really use your help, if you’re up for it.”
“What do you need me to do?” he asked, his voice rough like sandpaper.
“How well do you know Prophet City?”
“Well enough,” he responded, squinting his eyes. “I’ve lived here more than half my life.”
“Do you know a man they call Crowley?”
“Fergus McLeod,” Cas said flatly, eyes narrowed, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “Yeah, I know him.”
“Cas and I were the closest we’d ever been to capturing him about five years ago,” Dean interjected, stepping up beside you both. “We got too close too quickly. Cas’ wife Hannah was with us at the time, in on the fight. Crowley killed her.”
“I’m so sorry…” you said softly, reaching out to squeeze Cas’ arm in comfort. Cas looked at your hand as if it were an alien. “He killed someone I loved very much. My best friend, Jo.”
“Crowley is an animal, and he needs to be put down,” Cas growled.
“Agreed,” you shook your head. “Will you help us take him out, once and for all?”
“It would be my honor,” he replied, this time squeezing your own arm awkwardly. “When do we begin?”
“Who’s this guy?” Charlie asked, flipping up her welding goggles to meet the new stranger.
“Charlie,” Dean started, you following closely behind both towering men. “This is Castiel.”
“Cas, please,” Cas responded, extending his hand out to Charlie. He attempted a smile, but her look of shock and revulsion made him turn immediately stone faced again. He cleared his throat and shifted his feet. She didn’t shake his hand, and instead looked at it like it was diseased.
“Charlie, Cas is here to help us find Crowley. He’s going to go out on the streets and ask around, try and find his main base,” Dean continued, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. “He's gonna do… the dirty work.”
“I mean… I can do the dirty work?” she replied quickly, clearly offended.
“Listen to me,” you quickly interjected, standing between Charlie and Dean. You placed your hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “You are the smartest woman I have ever met, but I do not want you going out in the roughest part of Prophet City, questioning criminals on my behalf. I already lost one of my friends to that monster, and I'm not going to lose you too.”
Charlie bit her lip, clearly wanting to protest, but finally her posture went slack. She let out a huff from deep in her chest and rolled her eyes.
“Fineeee,” she whined, side stepping you and holding her hand out to Cas. “Nice to meet you, Castiel. Anything you need technology wise, I'm your gal.”
“Thank you, Charlie,” Dean sighed, relieved. “Can you hook him up with some kevlar? Who knows what he'll run into out there. Crowley knows we’re looking for him, and it’s not like he doesn’t know what Cas looks like. He won’t be looking for Cas though, considering he hasn’t seen him in half a decade, so that gives us a bit of an advantage.”
“Got it, boss. Come on, brooding prince. We'll get you all set up,” Charlie said, taking Cas by the shoulder and guiding him to her workstation. Cas looked back at you like a lost puppy, not used to the spunk that Charlie seeped from every pore. “Nice trench coat by the way. Very mysterious stranger…”
After another exhausting week of training, and getting Castiel set up to go out into the streets, you needed a moment to breathe. Escaping to the garden outside, you kneeled on the grass in front of Joe’s memorial. Dean had set it up for you, and it was where you came when you needed to clear your head. Sometimes you would talk to her, praying she was listening; other times you sat in silence, hoping to feel her presence.
The memorial Dean built for her was beautiful, and when he presented it to you, you wept with joy. You couldn’t bring yourself to even attend her funeral, and had no idea where she was actually buried. Facing her family was never an option, the guilt festering inside you like a disease, screaming at you everyday that it was all your fault.
You missed her; every single day you missed her more and more. When she died, a part of you died with her. She was always there to guide you through life, to give you the best advice, and make you smile when you didn’t think it was possible to smile anymore. Your heart ached for her, but this special place to commemorate her life helped you immensely in coping with her death. That, and finding anyway possible to take down her killer.
“Hey,” you heard a soft, gruff voice behind you. “Are you alright?”
It was Dean, of course. He was always so worried about you, and you welcomed his presence at all times. He soothed you, calmed your nerves. You had no idea what you’d do without him.
“Yes, I’m fine,” you said quickly, not wanting to worry him. “I just needed to spend some time with Jo.”
Dean nodded, placing his large hand on your shoulder. When Jo died, it was almost as if Dean was a blessing in disguise. He was there to protect you no matter what.
“I love you,” he said gently, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “I know we don’t say it enough, what with everything going on lately, but I really do.”
You stood up from where you were kneeling and faced the man you loved. He looked so tired, the crinkles by his eyes more apparent than ever before. You touched his face, feeling the dark scruff beneath your fingers. He was everything to you. There was no way you could handle losing him too.
“I love you too,” you whispered back, only the chirps of birds nestled in nearby trees making any sound.
“Will you take a walk with me?” he asked, taking your hand. “There’s something I’d like to show you.”
Dean walked you along the garden, his gaze landing on you every so often. You barely spoke to one another, as you enjoyed the fresh air. You’d been cooped up in the house for so long, it was becoming hard to breathe. He stopped you at a vantage point, which overlooked the entire range of Prophet City.
“This is where I go to think sometimes…” Dean started, sitting down on the bench which you knew he’d placed there himself.
The sun was going down, and beautiful pinks and purples framed the backdrop of your city. It was breathtaking, and you stared at it for a moment, your mouth open.
“This is incredible.”
“I hoped you’d like it,” he said, scooting over on the bench so you could sit beside him.
“Do you think Jo is… okay? Do you think she’s happy where she is?”
“I do. Do you?”
“I like to think so. She was a great person.”
“How are you doing with all of this? The training, Jo, Crowley. I need to know that you’re okay, Y/N.”
“I’m fine, Dean.”
He narrowed his eyes at you, as if you weren’t telling him the whole truth.
“I am! I promise. I mean, some days are harder than others. But I have you to keep me sane.”
You laid your head on his shoulder and watched the sun continue to set. This is what you loved about Dean. He wasn’t much of a talker either. It was easy to just sit and enjoy his company, without words getting in the way.
“Has Cas found anything out yet?” you asked, remembering that Castiel had started his mission earlier that very morning.
“He hasn’t gotten in touch with me, so I’m going to assume no. These things take time. Crowley is not an easy person to find.”
“You’re right. I need to relax.”
“He promised he’d contact me as soon as he heard anything.”
You nodded, brushing the hair out of your face. It was almost dark now, the sun giving its final stroke of art across the sky, before disappearing behind the looming skyscrapers.
“Do you think Crowley knows we’re looking for him?” you asked, dusting off your pants and getting up from the bench.
“Oh I know he is,” Dean responded. “And I know damn well he’s trying to find a way to get to us first.”
It had been over two weeks, and you hadn’t heard from Cas once. Dean had even tried to call him, once he’d grown tired of hearing you ask, and he didn’t answer. You were starting to get discouraged, and were itching to take matters in your own hands.
“This is ridiculous,” you huffed, resting your head on the table. “Torture, even.”
“Y/N,” Dean said, wrapping his arms around your neck. “These things take time. Crowley isn’t just going to pop out and allow himself to get caught up. He’s hidden, and he’s hidden well.”
“But why hasn’t Cas even called to tell us he hasn’t found anything? I mean… is this normal for him?”
“Castiel is very… independent. He knows what his job is and I know he’ll contact me when he deems it necessary. I’ve known him for a very long time.”
“Whatever you say.”
You hadn’t told Dean this, but if Cas didn’t call by the end of the week, you were going to prowl Prophet City to try and find some intel yourself. Not even speaking a word of this to Charlie, for fear she’d tell Dean, you kept it to yourself. You had it all planned out in your head, and you were just waiting for the perfect time.
Dean’s phone ringing shrilly in his pocket, snapped you out of your daydreams. You stared at him with open eyes, as he reached into his pocket.
“Cas,” he said flatly into the phone. Dean walked away into the other room as he spoke to his friend. You sat patiently at the kitchen table, waiting to see what Cas had to say. After about fifteen minutes, Dean finally entered the kitchen again. His face was beat red, his hair standing on end. These were signs of Dean’s frustration, his fingers working through his mussed up hair and he placed his phone on the table, and his jade eyes locked with yours.
“Crowley’s been sighted,” he said plainly, but there was a fire in his eyes that you had never seen before. He was mad, so mad his neck was beginning to inflame. His knuckles turned ghost white as he gripped the table.
“Dean…” you started, knowing something was up. “What’s wrong?”
“Remember how I told you I have a brother? Sam - the lawyer?”
Briefly you did remember him mentioning this, but had no idea who he was. Dean didn’t talk about him very much, and didn’t tell you why he was never around.
“Yes…”
“Crowley’s taken him. His last sighting was throwing my little brother into the back of a van, with a sack over his head.”
You stood up quickly, almost knocking the kitchen chair over. Walking to him quickly, you took his flushed face in your hands. He was biting his bottom lip, his eyes flitting back and forth as he thought everything through.
“Where?”
“At the docks. Downtown.”
“Why didn’t Cas do anything?!” you yelled, starting to become angry.
“There were too many of them. Cas is strong, but he can’t take them all on his own.”
“What do we do now?”
“Cas got the license plate number of the van. I can give it to Charlie, and she can track where it is, or where it's been last.”
“We’ll get him back, Dean,” you said softly, taking his chin and guiding his face up so your eyes would meet. “He won’t do this to us again.”
“Goddamn it!” Dean screamed, smashing his fists on the table. You had never seen him this mad before and you jumped, swallowing your heart. “Crowley knew that Sam and I… don’t talk. But that bastard also knew I would do anything in the entire world for my little brother.”
You wanted to ask Dean why he and his brother didn’t talk, or get along, but seeing the way he was reacting made you realize you were the same. The way he was acting about his brother, was the same way you would act about Jo. Regardless of what happened, he was family. Even though Jo wasn’t exactly blood, family didn’t end there. So instead, you asked him another question.
“Anything?”
Dean looked at you curiously, his eyes squinting slightly.
