Fic: Remember What You Told Me (1/4)
Oct. 19th, 2011 09:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dauntperplexityTitle: Remember What You Told Me (1/4)
Author: DauntPerplexity
Rating: PG 13
Genre: Romance, amnesia
Characters and/or Pairing: Bobby, Sam, Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: Pretty much anything up to the most recent episode.
Warnings: kissing, nudity, mentions of sex
Word Count: This part - 2913; Total - ~12000
Summary: “I’m not supposed to be okay surrounded by a couple of strangers.”
Author’s Note: Fifth in my Vegas!Verse. This comes after Send Out an SOS. This is the second sign of something they have to work through in their marriage. The long italic parts are flashback scenes.
When we woke up, he didn’t know anything. He felt like that was the understatement of his lifetime. He had no clue where he was and how he got there. Worse, and probably most important, he didn’t know who he was.
Like any reasonable person would do when he realized he was lost, he reached into his pockets, and there were many with the trench coat and suit he was wearing, searching for anything to jog his memory. He pulled out a wallet filled with a bunch of cards and different IDs to match. Most of them had the name Castiel on them. The first thought he had was he was a con artist. Reaching into another pocket, he pulled out an FBI badge with a face on it that matched all of his other IDs. “FBI?” he whispered, noticing the roughness of his voice. He coughed a few times to try and clear it up.
He stood up from where he was lying down and looking around. He was in a park. Or at least it looked like a park. But he still had no idea what state he was in.
He was about to start walking around to look for anything to give him an indication of where he was on the planet until he felt a pull with the whisper of one word. He spun around and saw no one around him. He thought he was going crazy until he heard it again. “Cas,” he heard, and it pulled at something inside of him, like the feeling knew where he needed to be.
Then the world collapsed on him and all he saw was bright lights. He felt cold and hot at the same time. It was a strange feeling, but he didn’t know if he wanted it to stop.
It did, and he found himself in a house surrounded by three men who stared at him like they knew him and they were waiting for him for quite some time.
“Took you long enough,” the younger, shorter one with short hair said. “Why didn’t you wake me up before you left?”
“I…I didn’t,” he stuttered, because honestly, what was he supposed to say to a man who knew who he was when he didn’t.
“Dean, leave him alone,” the tallest one, with long hair, said. “He was probably doing something important.”
“Well, now that he’s here,” the oldest man started, “Sam, you’re with me in the kitchen. Dean, fill him in.”
The man, Dean, nodded. The other two men left them alone. Dean grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a room that was full of books. He walked over to one of the many desks in the room and sat on it. “Cas, where did you go? And why are you wearing your suit and trench again?”
He looked around the room, amazed with all of the ancient looking books. It took him a moment to realize that Dean was speaking to him. “I… I don’t know.” He looked at the man sitting at the desk and found himself staring, like he was examining something new.
“Why are you looking at me funny?”
“I…” he said running his hands down his front. “How did I get here?”
“What?” Dean asked.
“I mean, I was in one place. A park. Then I was here. I don’t know how I got here.”
“Cas,” Dean said standing up and walking toward the man.
He found himself stepping back, keeping the distance between them constant. “That’s my name?” He remembered that a few of his IDs had the name Castiel on it. He wondered if that was his real name and Cas was just a nickname.
“Cas, stop joking around,” Dean said. He was about to say something else, but a realization washed over his face. “What is my name?”
Castiel found himself backed into a corner, figuratively and literally. He could say the name, knowing it only because he heard it earlier, or he could tell the truth. “I don’t know.”
Dean’s eyes widened. “Bobby!” he yelled.
The two men appeared in the study from the kitchen in an instant. “What?” Bobby, the elder man, said.
“Something’s wrong with Cas.”
“What are you talking about?” Bobby replied. He stepped toward Castiel. “He doesn’t look injured.”
“No, like not physically. Like he isn’t him.”
“Christo,” Sam said.
“What?” Castiel replied, stepping back.
“He’s not possessed,” Sam whispered.
“What are you talking about?”
Bobby stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. He squeezed it really gently, then let it go. “Son, do you know who I am?” he asked.
“Son?” Castiel replied. “Are you my father?”
“No,” Bobby said, backing up and shaking his hands. “No. God, no.”
“Bad choice of words,” Sam mumbled.
“What is going on?” Castiel asked.
“I wish we knew,” Bobby replied.
“Bobby,” Dean said.
“We got it, Dean,” Bobby said, pushing Sam into one of the chairs in the study. “We’ll fix this.”
Dean nodded and tapped Castiel’s arm, signaling him to follow. He walked out of the study and into the living room. He sat down on the couch and looked surprised, but relieved when Castiel sat down, albeit a cushion away, but it was something.
Dean let silence pass over them before he spoke up. He turned to face Castiel and the other man did the same. “Cas, honestly, look at me. Who am I?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t remember anything about me?”
“Not just you. I don’t know anything about myself. Except for my name. Which sounds like a nickname. What is my real name?”
“Castiel. But I… we call you ‘Cas’.”
“Castiel,” he repeated. “So, now I know my name. But besides that, nothing. Apparently I’m either an FBI agent or a con artist. And I can teleport?”
“This isn’t good,” Dean whispered.
“Do you know what’s wrong with me?”
“No clue. I don’t have any idea what’s strong enough to do this to you.”
“Strong enough?”
“I mean, you could’ve been hit hard enough that you hit your head or something and there went your memory.”
From how quickly the other man was speaking, Castiel wasn’t sure if the other man was lying or not. “But I’m not hurt. At least, I don’t feel anything.” He watched Dean and could see the cogs turning in his head. He knew the man next to him knew more than he was letting on.
“Okay. Well, why don’t you just sit down and chill while we figure this out.”
“Why should I trust you?” he asked, his tone curious, not biting.
“Because you came to us. You don’t know how or why you did it, but it means a lot that you did.”
“I guess it does.”
“So, just sit and relax, and try to jog your memory. Maybe something in here looks familiar.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Dean stood up and left him alone in the living room. He looked around it trying to see if he could find something to help him remember. He only tried for a few minutes before he knew that it wasn’t going to help.
He stood up and followed the direction that Dean had gone in. He stopped right outside of the kitchen when he heard two of them talking in hushed tones.
“He lost his memory and he still listens to everything you say.” That voice belonged to the guy with the long hair.
“Find who did this to him. I want a name so they can reverse this and then I can kill them.”
At the word ‘kill’ Castiel stood up and decided that he needed to get out of the house. He did not want to be in the same place as men who were talking about murder like it was an every day occurrence.
He was ready to run, but when he got to the front door, he saw the oldest of the three men standing in the way. “Now, Castiel, I know that you’re confused and scared, but you need to stay here so we can keep you safe.”
“Safe. They were talking about killing someone.”
“Only because we care about you.”
“Right,” Castiel said, incredulous. “That makes it okay?”
“Yeah, it does.”
“I have to go. My family must be looking for me.”
Bobby surged forward and grabbed Castiel by the upper arms. “We are your family!”
“No.”
“Dean! Come get your… come get Cas.”
The brothers ran into the living room. “Bobby, what’s going on?” Dean asked when he saw Bobby with a grip on Castiel.
“He’s trying to leave.”
“Cas, I though you were trying to just sit and let us take care of it,” Dean replied.
“I was,” he said, because for a few moments he actually trusted the men surrounding him. “Until I found out that taking care of it meant that someone is going to die.”
“You don’t understand,” Sam said.
“Maybe I don’t want to.”
“Cas.”
“Is that even really my name?”
“Yes,” Dean sighed. “We wouldn’t lie to you. Right, Sam? Bobby?” The two other men nodded to agree.
“But you’d keep secrets.”
“You’d be terrified if you heard the truth,” Sam replied.
“It can’t be that unbelievable if I’ve stayed with you so far.”
“You… just have to trust us. Trust me,” Dean said. “Bobby, let him go, you’re scaring him.” He watched as Bobby let go of Castiel. Dean was ready to run if Castiel decided to bolt out the door. He was surprised that he stayed.
“You have to give me something. Just something that helps me know that you mean something to me. That you guys aren’t killers and aren’t going to kill me when the day is over.”
“Dean, just tell him,” Sam said.
“No.”
“Dean, tell him or he’s walking out the door,” Bobby added.
“What makes you think that telling him won’t be the thing that sends him out the door?”
“He is right here,” Castiel said, irritated that they were talking about him like he wasn’t standing next to them.
“Tell him,” Bobby and Sam yelled at the same time.
Dean inhaled and exhaled slowly, preparing to tell him. Then he looked straight at Castiel. “Fine,” Dean conceded.
“Okay.” Castiel waited, nervous. He wondered what the man was going to say. He hoped that he wasn’t a murderer like them.
“Cas,” he said, cautious. “We… we’re… we’re married.”
Castiel looked at Dean, unsure how to take in the news. After taking a moment to let it sink in, he realized that he didn’t believe them. “Okay. You’re all officially crazy.”
“No, we’re not. Cas.”
“So, the one thing that you think of to keep me here is to tell me that we’re married?”
“Yes.”
“No. That can’t be right.”
“We are. Look.” Dean stepped forward and grabbed Castiel’s left hand. He held it up, showing him the gold ring on his finger.
He didn’t know why he didn’t notice it when he took an inventory of himself when he woke up. He yanked his hand out of Dean’s. “So, I’m wearing a ring on my finger. That doesn’t mean anything.”
“I put it there.”
“Is there any indicating factor that it was you? An engraving on it or something?”
“Not sure.”
Castiel sighed and tried to pull off the ring to see for himself. He pulled at it as hard as he could, but the ring was stuck. He tried a couple more times before he realized that it wasn’t going to budge. “Why can’t I take the ring off?”
“Long story,” all three of them said.
Castiel looked down at his hand. He wanted answers and something told him that these men were the only ones who were able to give them to him. “Well, I have nowhere else to go. I have time. Tell me.”
Dean was relieved because he knew that meant that he was staying put. “It’s really hard to explain,” he replied.
“I don’t care. I need to know.” Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand and as soon as he did, he felt another pull. But this one felt different from the first one. When he looked around, he was in a building different from where he was a moment ago.
He watched as two people busted through the front door. One of them was him, the other was Dean.
Castiel gently wrapped his hand around Dean’s wrist, stopping him from going any further. “Dean, I should get you back to your motel room.”
“Why? The decision’s been made,” he said with a goofy grin.
“You aren’t thinking straight.”
“We’re getting married, Cas. Come on.”
The vision, or hallucination, ended and he found himself back in the house surrounded by the three men. He gasped, feeling like while he was in the chapel or wherever he was, he hadn’t taken a breath.
Dean had somehow made his way to his side and had a hand on his back and on his chest as if to keep him standing. “What just happened?” he asked.
He shook his head, thinking that it would take away the dizzy feeling. “I… I just… Remembered something, maybe.”
“Okay. That’s good.”
“You don’t want to know what it is?” Castiel asked.
“I’m not going to force you to tell me.”
“Yeah,” he said with a swallow. “Can… can we just… the ring?”
“After you get some sleep. You’ve been here for ten minutes and you look like you’ve been through the ringer.”
“I’m okay.” The sooner he got his answers, the sooner he’d be able to trust the men around him, not that he wasn’t already doing that.
“Please. I’ll give you all the answers you want, but you’re… tired.”
Castiel wanted to argue, but he knew the other man was right. All the adrenaline that was keeping him awake and alert was seeping out of him after receiving the memory. He just wanted to lie down and recollect himself. “Okay,” he agreed.
Dean led him upstairs and into a room. “Um… you’ll find some clothes in the drawer. I don’t think you really want to stay in that suit and trench. So, I guess I’ll leave you alone to do whatever you need to do. I’ll come and get you when it’s time to eat or something.”
Without saying anything else, Dean left the room.
Castiel sat down on the bed, rubbing his face. He had no idea what was going on with him. He knew that he should have just left when he had the chance. But something compelled him to stay. The gut feeling, along with the vision or memory that he received; he had to find out what was going on.
Sure, the three men downstairs were talking about murder, but they weren’t going to hurt him. He was sure about that. He found himself drawn to and trusting Dean, so until something happened to give him reason to high tail it out of the house, he’d stay.
But since he was alone, he felt that it was the perfect time for him to look around. The room was obviously his. And Dean’s, if he was telling the truth. There had to be something in the room to back up Dean’s story about them being married.
There were no pictures, but he didn’t expect there to be any. The house was full of men, and none of them looked like they posed for pictures often. Unless it was for mugshots, or a new ID, or something. He walked over to the drawers, pulling out a shirt and some sweats.
He was about to shut it, but he saw a piece of paper sticking out from under a pile of boxers. He tugged at it and saw what it was. It was a picture of him. And Dean. And they were kissing.
He flipped the picture over and saw that there was writing on it. Mr. & Mr. Dean and Castiel Winchester. There was more writing on it, but he had to put it down and take a second to let everything make sense.
Dean was telling him the truth. They really were married.
He put the picture back in the drawer. He grabbed the clothes that he pulled out and changed into them. He had no idea why he was wearing a suit and trench coat, but he was surprised when he found himself not sweating at all on the summer day.
He pulled off the coat, and the suit jacket, and the shirt, and was surprised at what he saw. He let the white shirt fall to the floor. He looked down and saw that his entire left side from his chest down to his hip was an array of colors. He was bruised. And like what any normal person does when they see a bruise, he pushed on it. He waited for the pain, but felt none. He kept prodding, but he felt nothing. He just added it to another one of the weird things about himself that he’d have to ask the men downstairs about later.
Once he got into more comfortable clothes, he made his way over to the bed. He laid down in it without much more thought. Dean was right. He was exhausted. As soon as his head touched the pillow, he found himself drifting.
He fell asleep with the scent of the man who was sitting next to him downstairs filling his nostrils. He found it pleasant.
Part 2
Author: DauntPerplexity
Rating: PG 13
Genre: Romance, amnesia
Characters and/or Pairing: Bobby, Sam, Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: Pretty much anything up to the most recent episode.
Warnings: kissing, nudity, mentions of sex
Word Count: This part - 2913; Total - ~12000
Summary: “I’m not supposed to be okay surrounded by a couple of strangers.”
Author’s Note: Fifth in my Vegas!Verse. This comes after Send Out an SOS. This is the second sign of something they have to work through in their marriage. The long italic parts are flashback scenes.
When we woke up, he didn’t know anything. He felt like that was the understatement of his lifetime. He had no clue where he was and how he got there. Worse, and probably most important, he didn’t know who he was.
Like any reasonable person would do when he realized he was lost, he reached into his pockets, and there were many with the trench coat and suit he was wearing, searching for anything to jog his memory. He pulled out a wallet filled with a bunch of cards and different IDs to match. Most of them had the name Castiel on them. The first thought he had was he was a con artist. Reaching into another pocket, he pulled out an FBI badge with a face on it that matched all of his other IDs. “FBI?” he whispered, noticing the roughness of his voice. He coughed a few times to try and clear it up.
He stood up from where he was lying down and looking around. He was in a park. Or at least it looked like a park. But he still had no idea what state he was in.
He was about to start walking around to look for anything to give him an indication of where he was on the planet until he felt a pull with the whisper of one word. He spun around and saw no one around him. He thought he was going crazy until he heard it again. “Cas,” he heard, and it pulled at something inside of him, like the feeling knew where he needed to be.
Then the world collapsed on him and all he saw was bright lights. He felt cold and hot at the same time. It was a strange feeling, but he didn’t know if he wanted it to stop.
It did, and he found himself in a house surrounded by three men who stared at him like they knew him and they were waiting for him for quite some time.
“Took you long enough,” the younger, shorter one with short hair said. “Why didn’t you wake me up before you left?”
“I…I didn’t,” he stuttered, because honestly, what was he supposed to say to a man who knew who he was when he didn’t.
“Dean, leave him alone,” the tallest one, with long hair, said. “He was probably doing something important.”
“Well, now that he’s here,” the oldest man started, “Sam, you’re with me in the kitchen. Dean, fill him in.”
The man, Dean, nodded. The other two men left them alone. Dean grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a room that was full of books. He walked over to one of the many desks in the room and sat on it. “Cas, where did you go? And why are you wearing your suit and trench again?”
He looked around the room, amazed with all of the ancient looking books. It took him a moment to realize that Dean was speaking to him. “I… I don’t know.” He looked at the man sitting at the desk and found himself staring, like he was examining something new.
“Why are you looking at me funny?”
“I…” he said running his hands down his front. “How did I get here?”
“What?” Dean asked.
“I mean, I was in one place. A park. Then I was here. I don’t know how I got here.”
“Cas,” Dean said standing up and walking toward the man.
He found himself stepping back, keeping the distance between them constant. “That’s my name?” He remembered that a few of his IDs had the name Castiel on it. He wondered if that was his real name and Cas was just a nickname.
“Cas, stop joking around,” Dean said. He was about to say something else, but a realization washed over his face. “What is my name?”
Castiel found himself backed into a corner, figuratively and literally. He could say the name, knowing it only because he heard it earlier, or he could tell the truth. “I don’t know.”
Dean’s eyes widened. “Bobby!” he yelled.
The two men appeared in the study from the kitchen in an instant. “What?” Bobby, the elder man, said.
“Something’s wrong with Cas.”
“What are you talking about?” Bobby replied. He stepped toward Castiel. “He doesn’t look injured.”
“No, like not physically. Like he isn’t him.”
“Christo,” Sam said.
“What?” Castiel replied, stepping back.
“He’s not possessed,” Sam whispered.
“What are you talking about?”
Bobby stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. He squeezed it really gently, then let it go. “Son, do you know who I am?” he asked.
“Son?” Castiel replied. “Are you my father?”
“No,” Bobby said, backing up and shaking his hands. “No. God, no.”
“Bad choice of words,” Sam mumbled.
“What is going on?” Castiel asked.
“I wish we knew,” Bobby replied.
“Bobby,” Dean said.
“We got it, Dean,” Bobby said, pushing Sam into one of the chairs in the study. “We’ll fix this.”
Dean nodded and tapped Castiel’s arm, signaling him to follow. He walked out of the study and into the living room. He sat down on the couch and looked surprised, but relieved when Castiel sat down, albeit a cushion away, but it was something.
Dean let silence pass over them before he spoke up. He turned to face Castiel and the other man did the same. “Cas, honestly, look at me. Who am I?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t remember anything about me?”
“Not just you. I don’t know anything about myself. Except for my name. Which sounds like a nickname. What is my real name?”
“Castiel. But I… we call you ‘Cas’.”
“Castiel,” he repeated. “So, now I know my name. But besides that, nothing. Apparently I’m either an FBI agent or a con artist. And I can teleport?”
“This isn’t good,” Dean whispered.
“Do you know what’s wrong with me?”
“No clue. I don’t have any idea what’s strong enough to do this to you.”
“Strong enough?”
“I mean, you could’ve been hit hard enough that you hit your head or something and there went your memory.”
From how quickly the other man was speaking, Castiel wasn’t sure if the other man was lying or not. “But I’m not hurt. At least, I don’t feel anything.” He watched Dean and could see the cogs turning in his head. He knew the man next to him knew more than he was letting on.
“Okay. Well, why don’t you just sit down and chill while we figure this out.”
“Why should I trust you?” he asked, his tone curious, not biting.
“Because you came to us. You don’t know how or why you did it, but it means a lot that you did.”
“I guess it does.”
“So, just sit and relax, and try to jog your memory. Maybe something in here looks familiar.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Dean stood up and left him alone in the living room. He looked around it trying to see if he could find something to help him remember. He only tried for a few minutes before he knew that it wasn’t going to help.
He stood up and followed the direction that Dean had gone in. He stopped right outside of the kitchen when he heard two of them talking in hushed tones.
“He lost his memory and he still listens to everything you say.” That voice belonged to the guy with the long hair.
“Find who did this to him. I want a name so they can reverse this and then I can kill them.”
At the word ‘kill’ Castiel stood up and decided that he needed to get out of the house. He did not want to be in the same place as men who were talking about murder like it was an every day occurrence.
He was ready to run, but when he got to the front door, he saw the oldest of the three men standing in the way. “Now, Castiel, I know that you’re confused and scared, but you need to stay here so we can keep you safe.”
“Safe. They were talking about killing someone.”
“Only because we care about you.”
“Right,” Castiel said, incredulous. “That makes it okay?”
“Yeah, it does.”
“I have to go. My family must be looking for me.”
Bobby surged forward and grabbed Castiel by the upper arms. “We are your family!”
“No.”
“Dean! Come get your… come get Cas.”
The brothers ran into the living room. “Bobby, what’s going on?” Dean asked when he saw Bobby with a grip on Castiel.
“He’s trying to leave.”
“Cas, I though you were trying to just sit and let us take care of it,” Dean replied.
“I was,” he said, because for a few moments he actually trusted the men surrounding him. “Until I found out that taking care of it meant that someone is going to die.”
“You don’t understand,” Sam said.
“Maybe I don’t want to.”
“Cas.”
“Is that even really my name?”
“Yes,” Dean sighed. “We wouldn’t lie to you. Right, Sam? Bobby?” The two other men nodded to agree.
“But you’d keep secrets.”
“You’d be terrified if you heard the truth,” Sam replied.
“It can’t be that unbelievable if I’ve stayed with you so far.”
“You… just have to trust us. Trust me,” Dean said. “Bobby, let him go, you’re scaring him.” He watched as Bobby let go of Castiel. Dean was ready to run if Castiel decided to bolt out the door. He was surprised that he stayed.
“You have to give me something. Just something that helps me know that you mean something to me. That you guys aren’t killers and aren’t going to kill me when the day is over.”
“Dean, just tell him,” Sam said.
“No.”
“Dean, tell him or he’s walking out the door,” Bobby added.
“What makes you think that telling him won’t be the thing that sends him out the door?”
“He is right here,” Castiel said, irritated that they were talking about him like he wasn’t standing next to them.
“Tell him,” Bobby and Sam yelled at the same time.
Dean inhaled and exhaled slowly, preparing to tell him. Then he looked straight at Castiel. “Fine,” Dean conceded.
“Okay.” Castiel waited, nervous. He wondered what the man was going to say. He hoped that he wasn’t a murderer like them.
“Cas,” he said, cautious. “We… we’re… we’re married.”
Castiel looked at Dean, unsure how to take in the news. After taking a moment to let it sink in, he realized that he didn’t believe them. “Okay. You’re all officially crazy.”
“No, we’re not. Cas.”
“So, the one thing that you think of to keep me here is to tell me that we’re married?”
“Yes.”
“No. That can’t be right.”
“We are. Look.” Dean stepped forward and grabbed Castiel’s left hand. He held it up, showing him the gold ring on his finger.
He didn’t know why he didn’t notice it when he took an inventory of himself when he woke up. He yanked his hand out of Dean’s. “So, I’m wearing a ring on my finger. That doesn’t mean anything.”
“I put it there.”
“Is there any indicating factor that it was you? An engraving on it or something?”
“Not sure.”
Castiel sighed and tried to pull off the ring to see for himself. He pulled at it as hard as he could, but the ring was stuck. He tried a couple more times before he realized that it wasn’t going to budge. “Why can’t I take the ring off?”
“Long story,” all three of them said.
Castiel looked down at his hand. He wanted answers and something told him that these men were the only ones who were able to give them to him. “Well, I have nowhere else to go. I have time. Tell me.”
Dean was relieved because he knew that meant that he was staying put. “It’s really hard to explain,” he replied.
“I don’t care. I need to know.” Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand and as soon as he did, he felt another pull. But this one felt different from the first one. When he looked around, he was in a building different from where he was a moment ago.
He watched as two people busted through the front door. One of them was him, the other was Dean.
Castiel gently wrapped his hand around Dean’s wrist, stopping him from going any further. “Dean, I should get you back to your motel room.”
“Why? The decision’s been made,” he said with a goofy grin.
“You aren’t thinking straight.”
“We’re getting married, Cas. Come on.”
The vision, or hallucination, ended and he found himself back in the house surrounded by the three men. He gasped, feeling like while he was in the chapel or wherever he was, he hadn’t taken a breath.
Dean had somehow made his way to his side and had a hand on his back and on his chest as if to keep him standing. “What just happened?” he asked.
He shook his head, thinking that it would take away the dizzy feeling. “I… I just… Remembered something, maybe.”
“Okay. That’s good.”
“You don’t want to know what it is?” Castiel asked.
“I’m not going to force you to tell me.”
“Yeah,” he said with a swallow. “Can… can we just… the ring?”
“After you get some sleep. You’ve been here for ten minutes and you look like you’ve been through the ringer.”
“I’m okay.” The sooner he got his answers, the sooner he’d be able to trust the men around him, not that he wasn’t already doing that.
“Please. I’ll give you all the answers you want, but you’re… tired.”
Castiel wanted to argue, but he knew the other man was right. All the adrenaline that was keeping him awake and alert was seeping out of him after receiving the memory. He just wanted to lie down and recollect himself. “Okay,” he agreed.
Dean led him upstairs and into a room. “Um… you’ll find some clothes in the drawer. I don’t think you really want to stay in that suit and trench. So, I guess I’ll leave you alone to do whatever you need to do. I’ll come and get you when it’s time to eat or something.”
Without saying anything else, Dean left the room.
Castiel sat down on the bed, rubbing his face. He had no idea what was going on with him. He knew that he should have just left when he had the chance. But something compelled him to stay. The gut feeling, along with the vision or memory that he received; he had to find out what was going on.
Sure, the three men downstairs were talking about murder, but they weren’t going to hurt him. He was sure about that. He found himself drawn to and trusting Dean, so until something happened to give him reason to high tail it out of the house, he’d stay.
But since he was alone, he felt that it was the perfect time for him to look around. The room was obviously his. And Dean’s, if he was telling the truth. There had to be something in the room to back up Dean’s story about them being married.
There were no pictures, but he didn’t expect there to be any. The house was full of men, and none of them looked like they posed for pictures often. Unless it was for mugshots, or a new ID, or something. He walked over to the drawers, pulling out a shirt and some sweats.
He was about to shut it, but he saw a piece of paper sticking out from under a pile of boxers. He tugged at it and saw what it was. It was a picture of him. And Dean. And they were kissing.
He flipped the picture over and saw that there was writing on it. Mr. & Mr. Dean and Castiel Winchester. There was more writing on it, but he had to put it down and take a second to let everything make sense.
Dean was telling him the truth. They really were married.
He put the picture back in the drawer. He grabbed the clothes that he pulled out and changed into them. He had no idea why he was wearing a suit and trench coat, but he was surprised when he found himself not sweating at all on the summer day.
He pulled off the coat, and the suit jacket, and the shirt, and was surprised at what he saw. He let the white shirt fall to the floor. He looked down and saw that his entire left side from his chest down to his hip was an array of colors. He was bruised. And like what any normal person does when they see a bruise, he pushed on it. He waited for the pain, but felt none. He kept prodding, but he felt nothing. He just added it to another one of the weird things about himself that he’d have to ask the men downstairs about later.
Once he got into more comfortable clothes, he made his way over to the bed. He laid down in it without much more thought. Dean was right. He was exhausted. As soon as his head touched the pillow, he found himself drifting.
He fell asleep with the scent of the man who was sitting next to him downstairs filling his nostrils. He found it pleasant.
Part 2
