fromfryingpantofire | For your love, I'm sorry/For your pain, don't worry

Entry tags:

castiel,
rp

For your love, I'm sorry/For your pain, don't worry

It had been happening little by little. Almost small enough increments not to be noticed, but Sam and Dean were both masters of noticing little details. It was the line between life and death far too many times.

(At least when they wanted to. Both were entirely too good at not seeing the forest for the trees when it was something they didn't want to know about.)

It had been slow, but steady. Sam and Dean had their hunts and Castiel had his job and his own life separate from their own. Especially once he got a boyfriend. It was only natural that they didn't get a chance to meet up as often.

But it wasn't just that. More and more often, Castiel begged off from meeting up or simply didn't answer voicemails left for him. And when they were able to get together, Castiel was quieter and obviously pulling away. It was worrying and Sam and Dean sat down and talked about it in the bunker, even pulling Kevin into it. They all agreed that, even if there wasn't a problem, they needed to at least check up on the former angel.

Which was why Sam was outside the gas station in one of the cars from the Men of Letters' garage, waiting on Castiel to finish his shift. This was something that was better talked about in person, anyway.

((Content warning for discussions of abuse and abusive relationships. Also BDSM done wrong.))

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Castiel aches.

He's been on his feet the entire day, and while there's a certain humble sort of happiness to be found in his job - even the unsanitary parts of it - it's also exhausting, and serves to remind him how far he's fallen.

It's a blessing in disguise that he found Jason, that he has someone to ground him and help him anchor himself, lest it all become too much. Sometimes though, their arrangement weighs heavily on Castiel. He'll have to confess this tonight, and face the proper punishment for not being happy with what he has. It helps him. It's what he wants and needs, and Jason knows how to provide that. The rules change sometimes, but it's Castiel's fault for not keeping up, for now knowing simple human customs. Jason teaches him, and mosto f the time, Castiel does well.

Nevertheless, he's sore in more ways than one, new and old welts on the back of his thighs making work a bit difficult today, and more will certainly be added tonight. The plug is a little on the side of too big to be comfortable, but Jason asked him to push himself, so he does. They'll have guests over later tonight, and Castiel needs to make sure the apartment is presentable, and that he is presentable, too. There's a purpose to it, and while it lacks the humble kind of dignity the job at the gas station has, any purpose is better than no purpose at all.

Shift change brings an unpleasant surprise. Castiel is off the clock, and exits the gas station to see the last person he expected.

"Sam..." He looks surprised for a moment, maybe even worried, but then smiles at his friend. Jason doesn't like Sam and Dean. Jason expects him home soon. "What are you doing here?"

Yeah, Sam doesn't much like that look. The smile doesn't do much to alleviate it, especially since Sam's been there long enough to be able to watch Castiel moving around the shop. It brings back memories from a very long time ago. Memories that Lucifer had once used against him but that he'd reclaimed as best he could.

"Hey, Cas. I was just in the neighborhood and saw the time, thought I'd drop by and say hi. We haven't heard much from you lately." Hadn't heard anything at all, really, which was more worrying. And Sam and Dean were already worried. "I was wondering if maybe you'd be up for a drink or something? A chance to catch up on things."

"I've been busy, that's all."

The words come almost too fast. Castiel has grown a bit used to making excuses. For bruises, for being late, for being early, for not looking well, for failing to meet expectations, for not holding still.

He'll drink tonight, drink from Jason's bottle until his body is pliant and buzzing and available.

"Thank you for the invitation, but Jason and I have guests tonight."

He's determined to do well, to earn his praise. If he's good, he might even get breakfast in bed and a bath. But he'll have to be good for that. Which means he needs to get going.

"I'm sorry, Sam. Tell Dean and Kevin hello from me?"

Sam does his best not to look crestfallen at Castiel's refusal. He absolutely doesn't want to be an ass and try to manipulate his friend into coming with him.

Instead, he nods, allowing some of his disappointment to show as he straightened from the side of the car and stepped forward, offering Castiel his hand. "Of course I will, Cas. And you know you're welcome in the bunker or just to call any time, right?"

"I know, Sam."

He knows. But Jason doesn't approve. Castiel misses his friends, misses helping them. But these days, he can't help them anymore anyway, and has chosen a lifestyle that leaves him with little wiggle room for his free time. It's... unfortunate in ways he never thought would happen. After all they've been through, he thought they'd all stick together.

But sometimes things go differently.

Sometimes, nothing works out as intended.

Still, they're friends, were close as brothers, almost, at some point. So Castiel reaches out his hand, offers it for Sam to shake, because he never learned about the whole hugging business. The sleeve rides up to reveal some unpleasant looking rope burn. Castiel is oblivious and just smiles. "It's been good seeing you, Sam."

He takes the offered hand, dropping his eyes for a moment, then pauses and reaches up, pushing Castiel's sleeve back a bit further.

It's not that it's rope burn, per se. After all, Sam's had some spectacular rope burn himself sometimes, though that was a lot less consensual than this looks like it might have been. It's more the fact that it doesn't look like it's been treated. And the fact that it confirms what's been niggling at the back of his mind as he watched Castiel move.

He looks up, very careful to keep his expression non-judgemental. "Cas?"

Color rises to Castiel's cheeks, and he pulls his hand away. It's not a jerking movement, and he doesn't actually seem worried or ashamed that Sam has seen - he merely seems embarrassed about having to explain.

"I enjoy being tied up during intercourse, Sam. It's not nearly as scandalous as human society pretends."

Still, he tugs the sleeve down, because he doesn't like the look in Sam's eyes.

Sam can't help but smile just a little bit at that. "No, it's not. There are a lot of people who enjoy it. People you might not expect. I'm more worried that it looks like the abrasions haven't been treated."

It sits badly in Sam's stomach, warning bells ringing at the back of his head. Most of him wants to bundle Castiel into the car and take him back to the bunker, to make certain that he's okay.

Another part of him realizes that he hasn't been with anybody in a long, long time. Especially not in this sort of way. "This is what you like and want. That's actually perfectly normal. As long as you're both safe and everybody's needs are being met."

And he knows, as soon as Castiel has gone on his way home, Sam's going to be calling Dean and setting up a stakeout. Because there's just something not right going on and he can't quite pin it down. Just a feeling, but Sam long ago learned to accept and listen to them.

Something aches, but inside of Castiel's chest. It's not even a bad sort of ache, no... it's a quiet sort of gladness. Sam#s approval shouldn't matter, or that he seems to understand Castiel's needs and desires, doesn't judge him for it. Something aches, because he misses the brothers.

"We are. Thank you, Sam. For... understanding."

His boss had been scandalized and even more worried when he'd explained the bruises and abrasions. They haven't been treated because he's come without permission. It's a fitting punishment. Jason says so, and Castiel doesn't know any better, can only believe and trust him.

"I should get going now. It was... good seeing you again."

He can't tell Castiel the reasons why he understands, why he approves. Especially not when Castiel's already with somebody else. Can't explain that it reminds him of his time with Jess, when they'd been able to play and switch things around...though Sam had always been far more dominant. It had worked for them.

Instead, he lets out a breath and nods. "It was good seeing you, too, Cas. And Cas? If you ever need us, just call. Any time of the day or night. You're family."

And Castiel had been around them enough to understand what that means to the Winchesters.

He understands, and can do nothing but nod and smile, touched, but at the same time saddened. It matters very little that they're family - when they rarely see each other. But it's good to know that there's someone who has Castiel's back nevertheless.

Castiel has a long weekend off work. Enough time for bruises to fade. Jason greets him with a raised voice and rough hands, shakes Castiel. He's late. Disobedience needs to be punished, and Castiel doesn't get to steel himself for it before he's bent over the kitchen counter, Jason's open palm painful on the not yet recovered skin of his thighs and buttocks.

Castiel isn't aware of how abusive their relationship is, how Jason has been gaslighting him into thinking this is good and right and exactly what he wants. There's a perverse kind of satisfaction in this for Castiel, too, though he doesn't know it's not something he should want, not like this. He tries to draw what he needs out of what Jason puts him through, so used to violence and pain that it doesn't even occur to him that this is wrong in any number of ways.

Their place is a peaceful little suburban home, and people don't suspect what's going on behind closed doors, because Jason is charming and convincing, and Castiel is odd, so what if sometimes he's a bit more odd than usual. He has a little garden out back, so naturally sometimes he'll look like he took a tumble.

Because it's a long weekend, Jason slaps him if Castiel does wrong. The marks are of ownership, they make Castiel feel proud.

He deserves them.

As soon as Castiel was on his way, Sam called Dean. There were all sorts of alarm bells ringing in his mind as he gave his brother the lowdown on what he suspected was happening with Castiel.

Not that they have proof that the relationship is abusive, but untreated abrasions and the way that Castiel has been withdrawing definitely point that direction. It's different abuse that Sam and Dean were used to growing up, but there's still enough that they can make a guess.

So they decide to stake out near Jason's home. They know where it is, have always known, but out of respect for Castiel, they haven't gone near it. Now, though? Now the rules are changing and there's always one of them there, since the house across the road fortuitously went up for sale. And even if Sam's faith has been tested a million times, part of him breathes a prayer of thanks to a God who stepped away and hopes that they'll find out what they need to.

The weekend is drawing to a close when Castiel makes the call.

He doesn't mean to, he tells himself. Tells himself he just wants to hear a friendly voice. The flowers in the garden are dying, untended to. Castiel hasn't left the house since he came home from work. He's not certain he's in a state in which that's still easily possible for him.

Jason leaves to go drinking in the early afternoon, ordering Castiel to stay put. The fallen angel isn't certain he could move if he wanted to. He loves Jason, he belongs to Jason, but... but Jason has scared him for the first time this weekend. He's used to being talked out of using his safe word - or being punished for using it. He's used to the hands that promised kindness delivering pain without rhyme or reason. He's used to not knowing what rules they're playing with.

He's not used to being actually scare while in bed with his partner. Used to fearing the consequences of his every move, yes. But not used to fearing for his long-term wellbeing. He's a soldier - bruises and abrasions heal, he can deal with them. He can deal with a great amount of pain and torture.

But right now... right now...

His hands are tied in front of him, which is how he's been able to get his phone and type a short message. He's naked, but his smooth, tan skin is yellow-green and angry-red and purple-black in too many places, showing where he was grabbed, hit, tossed around, knocked into furniture, whipped, caned, cut, bitten. The sheets are spattered with a little red, the house is full of broken dishes and glass. The bathtub is full of cold water, and Castiel's head and shoulders are wet.

He writes 'Leviathan', because he needs the scene to be over... just over. He's too weak, he's not a good sub, but he just needs out, just for a moment. Jason will be angry, but Castiel will make it up to him... just...

The text goes to Dean, not out of preference but because Castiel doesn't have the energy to scroll further down in his sparse contact, the list that goes Dean, Jason, Kevin, Sam. And then he closes his eyes - one of them is swollen shut, the other is wet. And just waits.

Sam was getting antsy because there hadn't been any movement from Castiel in the house. There'd been shouting a time or two, but nothing that Sam or Dean could make out without being a lot closer than they are. That bad feeling that Sam's had all weekend has only gotten worse, though, to where Sam's nearly pacing the house.

Dean's there when the text comes through, a surprise to them both that it's from Castiel and not Kevin. But the text itself is more than enough to put them both in motion. The fact that Jason is out of the house is a good thing, because they don't even pause before making their way across the street, using a key that Sam and Dean may have surreptitiously copied from Castiel the last time they'd actually seen each other to get into the house.

It's the smell that gets them first. The scent of blood and violence that they're both far too acquainted with. Sam tears forward, Dean right behind him as they search the house.

When they find Castiel, neither of them can speak for a moment. Then Sam grits his teeth. "Call Kevin," he finally says. "Tell him to drive out here right away."

They needed Castiel out of the house. He doesn't need to ask Dean, though, if he wants to stay to deal with Jason as well.

As Dean steps away to make the call, Sam steps to the side of the bed and sits down, taking Castiel's phone from his hands and then taking his hands. "Cas. Cas, nod if you can understand me."

For a while, he doesn't. Castiel just lies there, hands limp in Sam's grasp, almost not trusting all this to be real.

"Leviathan," he murmurs. His good eye cracks open, searches for Sam. He nods. He understands, just wants the scene to end though. When he hears another voice, he flinches. It takes a moment for him to realize it's Dean on the phone, not Jason coming back home to deal out rightful punishment.

For now, he holds Sam's gaze, tries to relax himself.

"Is that your safe word?" Because there wasn't much other reason to use it right now. There wasn't enough panic behind it to be warning him of an actual Leviathan, though there were some still out there.

He reaches for his knife, watching Castiel's face. "I'm going to cut these ropes away, all right?" It's an effort to keep his voice steady, because he's just that angry at the moment. There is no reason for a sub to have been left alone like this, none at all. Though Sam can't help but be grateful because it means that Castiel was able to call for them. "I'm right here and I am not going to cause you harm. I'm just going to free your hands."

Castiel feels uprooted in strange ways. Not dropped from subspace so much as torn out of it. The ropes have rubbed his wrists utterly raw and Castiel is shaking, subtly but just about noticeable. He's strong, and there is no other situation in which anyone could put him in a state like this - but here, in his shared bedroom with Jason, he's vulnerable. Made himself so, trusting his state wouldn't be exploited. And he was wrong.

So for now, he just nods. Sam isn't his dom, but Sam is here right now, and he needs someone to be there, to respect his safe word.

Sam nods as well, using his knife to cut the ropes. The look of Castiel's wrists is something that Sam never wants to see again, but for now, he simply looks them over. "Kevin will be here soon and he'll take you back to the bunker. You're welcome to the showers, of course, or to a bath. Or you can wait until Dean and I get back, but I don't know how long that's going to be."

If Jason was lucky, he'd only get a piece of Sam and Dean's minds as well as a good few threats. If he was unlucky...well, people disappeared all the time. And they were good at hiding the bodies.

"Why are you not coming right away?"

It sounds almost detached. Castiel doesn't dare raise his true concerns - not wanting to be left alone with Kevin, because he doesn't offer the level of security and solid ground Castiel needs right now.

Part of him wants Jason to be there, and he's not even aware how backwards and messed up that is.

Sam reaches up, brushing Castiel's hair back from his face. "Dean and I need to talk to some of the people here in town. It won't take long, I don't think. Would you rather wait in the Impala, then? It's not far, but Dean and I can't stay in the car with you. Right now, we'd really just like you to be away from here and someplace safe."

Kevin's no dom, though, and Sam knows it. Knows that Castiel needs a dom.

He pauses, thinking it over for a moment. "Actually. Let me go talk to Dean for a moment." Because there was no reason why they couldn't wait and talk to Jason later, once Castiel was safe and settled back at the Bunker.

"I'm supposed to stay and wait."

It's important, because the commands give order to his world and help him not get lost in everything that's too much and too hard and too intense. He needs the commands to ground himself, and he needs to follow, because it's easy, and it feels good to him.

He can't keep rebelling.

Castiel's eyes slide to the side, away from Sam. There's no fight in him right now, he's just lax and exhausted, and though his words aren't an active cry for help, they come as close as they could ever be.

"We'll have guests later."

There's something in that last bit that makes Sam's blood run cold. "Guests?" he asks, keeping his voice very tightly controlled as he strokes his fingers down Castiel's arm. "What do you mean by guests?"

Castiel obviously wasn't in any condition to deal with guests of any kind. So the fact that there were some expected was probably not a good thing.

Castiel just nods, as if the term doesn't require more explanation than that. He lets Sam touch him, even though he knows Jason will be disappointed, and slowly sinks into shame for being such a bad sub. He can't even adhere to the most simple orders, in a scene or outside of it.

"Friends."

Not his friends, but he accommodates them either way if Jason orders him to.

The more he watches Castiel, the more Sam knows that he and Dean are going to need to come back to deal with Jason. Because it's incredibly obvious that Castiel is, at the very least, dealing with subdrop and Kevin is in no way equipped to deal with that.

And Dean is NOT getting a chance to deal with Jason without Sam there.

"All right. Later, I might ask you more about these friends. Right now, though, Dean and I are going to take you back to the bunker. Get these wounds looked at and taken care of."

As much as he hates it, Sam starts gathering up the blanket, pulling it around Castiel. "Is there anything you absolutely need right now?"

Dean entered the room, watching Sam for a moment. They looked at each other, holding one of their silent conversations before Dean began packing a bag of Castiel's clothes. Not that there was a lot of them, really.

Not a lot of Castiel in the house indeed. He has necessities, as if he's living on the road instead of in a small but nice house with his dom. He's not earning much, true, but enough that there should be more. He has what he needs, nothing more. Jason has gotten him gifts, yes, but Jason has also handled Castiel's money - for practical reasons initially, as Castiel had no clue about setting up or using a bank account on his own, or how to make a budget, how to take proper care of himself in every way.

So he has what he needs. There's a side of the shelf that clearly belongs to him - the clothes he wore when Dean and Sam finally found him, his work clothes, some spare clothes, underwear, cheap collars, socks, shoes.

It's not much, and it's the only obvious trace of him in the bedroom.

So when Castiel looks at Sam, eyes searching, and just says "Jason," Dean just barely refrains from punching the cupboard.

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