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.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Castiel is dry.

It's a simple fact that without proper lubrication things... aren't exactly easy, and they prove not to be in Castiel's case. If there was even any lube to begin with, i didn't last, and when Sam pulls and Castiel pushes, he has to bite down on Sam's shoulder in order to not scream.

Human sensation is.... so intense.

Castiel wants to weep, and doesn't quite know how he lasts through this kind of torture.

He doesn't ask Sam to stop It would be unfair, because Sam can't stop, can't not pull, and Castiel knows that. Stil he clings to Sam with what little strength he has, and prays for this pain to be over soon.

There's blood and semen, but mostly blood.

"Fuck." Shit, that is not good.

Sam knows how to deal with it, though, and he should have thought about more lubrication, but there wouldn't have been any way to get it in. Not with as dry as Castiel is and how fucking big the plug is.

The plug itself could have been all right, with the right amount of lube and stretching. The fact that it's not, though, just makes Sam angrier. He closes his eyes and keeps pulling, letting Castiel bite and whimper all he needs to as he eases the plug out as best he can. Once that's done, he throws it away, just wrapping his arms around Castiel and holding him. "It's not your fault," he finally says, hand moving up to tangle in Castiel's wet hair. "I know that's how it feels and I know that's what Jason told you, but this isn't your fault, Cas. And I have you."

They'd deal with the blood in a few minutes, which isn't going to be comfortable for Castiel. But just for this minute, he lets Castiel lean against him and just holds him.

Castiel leans gratefully, just lets Sam support most of his weight for a moment. He feels oddly violated, though not by Sam. Never by Sam, no. He doesn't really know why he feels even more dirty now that he plug is gone. Maybe because he can't even do this along, has let himself be put into this position. There's a disconnect between his mind and body that's slowly bleeding into him again, and he welcomes it, doesn't really want anything to do with his limbs right that very moment.

His breath ghosts over Sam's wet shoulder, lips pressed to the warm flesh just because he doesn't want to move his head.

"I was the centerpiece for orgies. He said he wanted our guests to have a chance to worship me, and I... I wanted that. To be laid on an altar and pray with my flesh. So I agreed."

Sam nods, stroking his hands over abused flesh so carefully and just letting the water run over them both. Though there's a part of him, a very strong part, that is more than a little pissed off at the fact that people touched Castiel like that.

"There's nothing wrong with that," he says softly. "Though I'm pretty sure it didn't go the way you expected."

"No. It hurt."

Not in the way he wanted or expected either.

Emotionally, it left him cleaved wide open so much worse. Because he hadn't wanted it, but Jason had - until Castiel thought it sounded like a good idea, like something he wanted. Promises of a reality that happened differently.

Castiel feels used.

"My safe word didn't work..."

That makes Sam freeze, holding Castiel closer under the water. While he'd had his suspicions, the way that Castiel had reacted to the way they'd responded to his text, to hear Castiel actually say it...

"You mean that he ignored your safe word." It's not a question. He knows what 'didn't work' means in this case. "Cas, I'm so sorry. I didn't...we didn't know. If we had, we'd have been there so much sooner."

It's safe here, and Castiel knows that. Knows that the tightness of Sam's arms wards him against a world that's run off its axis.

"I didn't tell you. I couldn't bear the thought of you knowing I failed again. Something so simple as being human. How do you do it, Sam? I don't... I don't understand."

He shifts a little, presses a little closer. Seeking shelter. How has he never known how nice hugs are? He got a glimpse back in Purgatory, when Dean wrapped him in a hug, but he hadn't been able to understand and appreciate the gesture back then.

Castiel's no slouch in the height and weight department, or the muscle department. But Sam's just bigger over all and hugs from him tend to be pretty all encompassing.

He shakes his head. "You didn't fail, Cas. Hell, there are people who have been humans all their lives who end up in the same sort of situation." He reaches up, resting his hand against the back of Castiel's neck. "What happened there, the failure isn't on you. It's entirely on him. But we'll make certain it doesn't happen again. Now that you have an idea what you want, we can go the right way about it. Teach you about the things that you might want."

Sam dwarves everyone. Even Castiel. Even Dean. His hugs offer comfort and solace, a haven that shelters from a storm.

Castiel thinks he might not want to leave. Not for the time being, at least, until he feels like the world is upright again, and humanity isn't strangling him with every breath he takes.

"You know about these things. Do you have the same sort of desires, Sam? To follow, to have order when there is none left in the world, to submit control to someone you can believe in? Is that what you want, too?"

It's a question he's been expecting, but isn't certain how to answer. Because of Jason, there's no way to explain what he wants without possibly freaking Castiel out. After all, his only experience with dominants is...well, abuse.

Finally, Sam shakes his head. "No," he admits after a few moments. "No, I've never been the kind who gives up control easily. I prefer to be the one in control, to give order in chaos. My desires...I like being the one in control."

More than liked it, but this isn't the time to talk about it. Not like that, at least.

Castiel nods, and finds himself not at all surprised. Sam is a gentle person, but also firm. He has the potential for darkness, but the heart not to stray into it, past mistakes not counting.

He would be good, Castiel realizes, and quietly wonders why there is no one around to submit to Sam and be taken so thoroughly taken care of.

Wonders if it's because of the job. Feels it's a shame, because he's not... Sam's, yet he feels safer right here than he has since Metatron cut his grace away.

"Can you... be in control of me, for a while? Not... not like that, of course. Just. Can you help me help myself, Sam?"

The question eases something in Sam's shoulders and he sighs softly, nodding. He'd been afraid for a few moments that it would scare Castiel off. His only experience with doms being Jason and his friends and that just wasn't good.

He reaches for a washcloth, lathering it up to begin washing Castiel, his touch slow and gentle. "I will," he promises. "I'll teach you what you need to know. Start from the ground up, let you see how it's supposed to work." There's a club in town that Sam sometimes goes to, subs that will play with him. He makes a mental note to ask about a guest pass for Castiel. "Not for a few days, though. For the next few days, you need to concentrate on recovering. You've been badly hurt and you're going to need time for your body to heal so that your mind can focus better."

And it is so simple all of a sudden. They're not commands, because Sam is not his dom, but it's still easy to follow them, to just let Sam dictate his choices for now. It feels good, it feels right, and it gives him the stability he needs. Stands a little more on his own feet, although he doesn't draw away. He stays right where he is, just letting Sam wash away the pain and confusion. Willing to listen to him, now, because it's either than making the call himself just yet.

"Recovery, then learning. Yes, Sam."

For a moment longer he's silent, and then he closes his eyes, just focuses on the feeling.

"Is it that bad?"

Sam thinks for a moment about lying, but he doesn't want to start things that way with Castiel. "I'm not entirely certain," he said after a moment. "There was a lot of blood when I removed the plug, so there's obviously some tearing down there. So we're going to have to be careful of that for a few days, since we don't want it getting infected." Which was always a chance with any tearing in that area. "I'll go in the morning and get some supplies to keep the area as clean as we can.

"As for the rest." He kept the washcloth moving over Castiel's back. "I haven't had a chance to really look, yet. I'll have you turn around and lean against the wall so I can get a better look at your back. If you have any cuts, they'll need to be treated to drop the risk of infection there, too. Because if anything becomes too infected, we're going to have to go to the hospital."

"When I met Jason, I was trying to order at a diner. Outside the box, because I know humans need variety in their food to survive and be healthy. So I wanted to order something different. I must have looked lost. Jason slid into my booth. Said I was too handsome not to have company. I didn't understand the relation, but thanked him for the compliment. He ordered for me. It was nice."

His fingertips draw small patterns on Sam's back, to distract himself from the bad news.

"Everything was nice in the beginning. I should have realized when he said he didn't like you and Dean, didn't want me to spend so much time with you."

"Mmm. Well, there are a lot of people who don't like us." He couldn't even be mad about that, honestly. And it wasn't like Sam and Dean had fought it overmuch. "We just wanted you to be happy, so we didn't question it, either. We should have. Especially as that's a common technique among abusers. They separate their partner from friends and family that could help them, keep them isolated so that others don't realize what's happening."

It really was classic and they hadn't seen it until it was nearly too late. "After I saw you at work the other day, I was...I got concerned. We kinda had his place staked out."

"You were close."

Castiel pulls his head back then, stares at Sam. There's no judgement in his eyes, just quiet wonder, confusion. Sam came to the store to see him, was concerned, both Winchesters kept a closer eye on him.

Angels perching on his shoulder.

He laughs so suddenly that it surprises him, and only for a moment before he feels dizzy and leans his head back against Sam's shoulder.

"Saving people. Hunting things. Isn't that how the prophet Chuck wrote it?"

The laughter surprises Sam as well, blinking at Castiel before he leans against him again.

"Something like that. That's what Dad used to say. Dean used to say it, too. But...I didn't think it was about hunting things, so much as hunting and stopping evil. I think that's what we've started to focus on more."

Monsters could be good. Lenore and her vampires tried their best to stay on the straight and narrow. Benny, for all Sam hadn't appreciated it at the time, had been a good man. And they'd run into plenty of humans who had been evil, even without being demons.

"But yeah. We were close. We knew something was up but...we didn't want to go busting in without you asking. That wouldn't have been fair to you."

"I didn't want to ask for help. Even now, in the end... I didn't want to... I thought it was all normal, all good. I still question what I did."

It's hard to shake that thought of... doing wrong, disappointing his dom. It's so ingrained in him by now, such a step back to his old ways, instead of a comfortable relinquishing of control.

Castiel falls silent then. Still stays close to Sam, but turns his head, so that while he's still leaning on the other man's shoulder, he's looking away from him. Just needing to be on his own in this situation for a while, though he stays perfectly relaxed.

Sam hums softly as he continues to clean Castiel, gentle and careful of injuries. "You didn't have a basis for comparison. Not one among humans, at least." And the basis he'd had among angels had been different. "You're probably going to question for a while, honestly. Not because what you did was wrong, but because you've been taught to think that way. We can work on that, though, you and I together."

He pulls away slightly. "I need to get down to clean off your legs. Can you lean against the wall for me, Cas?"

"I experienced doubt long before I met Dean and you. It's not pleasant. It feels like a sickness that eats away at you. Angels aren't designed for it..."

And yet he knows the doubt is good. Anna has doubted, he has doubted, and it led them on better paths, fighting for what they believed in respectively. He still didn't look forward to doubting more now.

"Yes, Sam."

It's easy to follow these orders at least, to lean against the wall for Sam in order to continue this exercise in humility.

"Doubt isn't always a bad thing." And he knows that Castiel knows that. But it still is a good thing to remind the former angel of from time to time.

Once he's certain Castiel is steady, Sam kneels and reaches for more soap, lathering up the washcloth again so that he can start washing the blood and semen off of Castiel's legs. Still gentle, still careful, but making certain every bit of it is gone. Including up over Castiel's ass because that definitely needed to be cleaned so that Castiel would feel better.

Someone used Sharpie to write something on the inside of Castiel's thighs, high up so it's only visible when he spreads them a little.

'Property'.

He doesn't answer Sam, but whimpers softly as he's being cleaned, as the soap stings in the various small tears he's suffering. His fingers find their way into Sam's hair for comfort, holding on with a small tremble.

Sam's lips roll as he looks at the marker and shakes his head. "I'll have to look up a good way to get rid of this." Because Castiel isn't property. Though, really, he should probably check that with the former angel.

For the moment, though, he finishes cleaning Castiel up, absolutely not moving the other man's fingers from his hair. It's an effort not to lean in and kiss Castiel's hip, memories of similar nights with Jess surfacing after so long. Instead, he shakes himself slightly and pushes himself to his feet. "Come on. Let's get you dried off and get a better look at your back." Probably more than just Castiel's back. But it definitely needs to be looked at to prevent infections.

Castiel nods, but is silent as he follows Sam out of the shower, slightly unsteady because of everything that has transpired, because he's tired and hurting and knows that his shame will only grow as they proceed.

"I'm sensitive."

It sounds like a random statement as he lets Sam envelop him in a towel. But it can mean a lot of things. An apology should his body react inappropriately to touch. An apology should he cry out because he hurts easily, too. An apology he cry.

Always an apology, because he feels that apologizing is all that can soften the inevitable fallout of all this for him.

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