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Description
Corruption
A SPN Fanfic

{Warning: there be monsters (aka Evil!Cas) ahead, and he's not a nice fellow.}

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Prologue

NOW

“Do it,” he orders, his deep voice quick and sickeningly eager.

“I can’t,” Dean whispers, the gun in his hand trembling as his hand shook. He grabs the gun with both hands, trying to steady his aim. Sweat slickens his palms and his forehead and he locks his jaw, feeling the dangerous prick of tears in the back of his eyes.

He hears him inhale sharply, and Dean can’t help but flinch at the impatience behind it. He steps closer to his right, moving into Dean's line of sight. Dean tilts his head down to avoid his gaze, because he can't see- he can’t see what this is doing to him.

He does not appreciate weakness.

Dean’s stomach drops as he feels his hand fall on his shoulder, gripping tight enough that Dean has to press his lips tightly together to keep from crying out. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of his shoulderblade, and Dean feels hot breath on his neck. Goosebumps spread down his spine and Dean tries to steel his expression.

“Do it,” he repeats, voice dipping into a chilling growl. At one time, Dean would’ve punched him for talking to him like that. Would’ve whirled around and pointed that damn gun at his face, instead of at the only person in the world Dean’s heart still beat for.

That was a long time ago.

“Cas...” He finds himself pleading, even though he knows it’s pointless to try. God knows how long has begged, for such a long time. But Dean gave up on him the second he gave up on himself. Yet what he’s asking him to do now- he can’t even stomach it. Please don’t make me do it, God, please. “Cas...I know you’re in there. Deep down- if there was ever a time to come out-” his voice breaks but he has to finish- “-now would be...great.”

His hand slackens on Dean’s shoulder for a moment, and for just a second Dean allows himself to hope.

But it’s in vain. He only slides his hands down Dean’s scarred arms, stepping closer and pressing his chest to Dean’s back. His strong, pale hands grip Dean’s shaking gun and make his aim steady. Then, slowly, he snakes his neck around to Dean's level, brushing his rough cheek with a cool lip. Dean still can’t meet his- those eyes- he squeezes his shut.

“Dean, Dean...Dean. How many times can I tell you? The Castiel you used to know is dead. I took his place- I’m the true Castiel now. And your pleading won’t change that. Won't bring him back.” His words send icy tremors through Dean and they when they meet his heart he can’t stop the pang of loss, can’t stop the hot tear that escapes from his tightly shut eyes.

“But you’re not my Cas,” he chokes, his throat closing up in grief. That traitorous tear streams down his face without a sound, and Dean tries to ignore that sick warmth that shivers through him as Castiel’s tongue flickers out to taste it. He presses his cheek against Dean’s, and he can feel the skin in his face tighten as he smiles, savoring the salty pain in the tear.

“No.” Castiel laughs darkly. “...But you, Dean Winchester, are mine. Your mind. Your body.” He slides his teeth lightly across Dean’s ear, making him shudder. “Your heart...your soul. Every part of you belongs to me, Dean. I’m asking you to do this for me. One simple thing. Naturally it will hurt, but the pain will fade. I promise you that.” For a moment, a flicker of pain works into his cold voice. But like a blink or a brush of summer wind, it’s gone.

“And then nothing will contest your affection for me, nothing will worm its way between us. That’s what you want, correct? To be with me...forever?” He pauses, a tip of his lip curling. “Don’t you love me, Dean?” He makes his voice questioning and he furrows his brow, putting on the old Cas face that used to be full of compassion and kindness, but now knew only malignance. It’s all for show- he knows what the Winchester’s answer will be.

“Yes, Cas,” Dean breathes, his green eyes slowly opening to reveal anguish- but resolved anguish all the same. “I love you more than anything.” His voice quavers as it passes from his lips.

“And I you,” Castiel says, baring his sharp, white teeth in a victorious smile. “Now...pull the trigger. Please, Dean...for me.”

“Yes, Cas," he repeats, voice numb. His expression slides off his face like water. "I will...because I love you.” He lifts the gun slowly, and Castiel gives his arms the strength to hold it steady- while locking them upright. Dean swallows roughly, trying to shove down the horror of what he's about to do deep inside himself.

There's no turning back.

The subject on the receiving end of the pistol stirs briefly in his chair, his eyelids fluttering open as he wakes. An aching moan rattles from his throat and he tilts his shaggy head, shifting his blood soaked, matted hair out of his face. He tries to move but the ropes keep him tightly bound to the chair he’s sitting in. Eyes darting around wildly, they eventually lock onto the gun pointed at his face, and travel to the face of the man with his finger on the trigger.

“D...Dean..?” he whispers faintly, his body freezing in the chair. His green eyes widen in horror, fixed on his brother’s face. “D- Dean- what’re you doing? Dean?!”

Dean presses his lips even tighter together and he looks at his little brother with all the sadness in the world etched on his face. Sam's eyes flicker to the dark Castiel looming over his brother, a glacial smile on his face and eyes alight with twisted, eerie triumph. A frightening smile curls Castiel's lips upwards, silently victorious, and Dean closes his eyes once again.

“I’m sorry, Sammy.”

He squeezes the trigger.

Description
Corruption
A SPN Fanfic

{Warning: there be monsters (aka Evil!Cas) ahead, and he's not a nice fellow.}

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Prologue

NOW

“Do it,” he orders, his deep voice quick and sickeningly eager.

“I can’t,” Dean whispers, the gun in his hand trembling as his hand shook. He grabs the gun with both hands, trying to steady his aim. Sweat slickens his palms and his forehead and he locks his jaw, feeling the dangerous prick of tears in the back of his eyes.

He hears him inhale sharply, and Dean can’t help but flinch at the impatience behind it. He steps closer to his right, moving into Dean's line of sight. Dean tilts his head down to avoid his gaze, because he can't see- he can’t see what this is doing to him.

He does not appreciate weakness.

Dean’s stomach drops as he feels his hand fall on his shoulder, gripping tight enough that Dean has to press his lips tightly together to keep from crying out. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of his shoulderblade, and Dean feels hot breath on his neck. Goosebumps spread down his spine and Dean tries to steel his expression.

“Do it,” he repeats, voice dipping into a chilling growl. At one time, Dean would’ve punched him for talking to him like that. Would’ve whirled around and pointed that damn gun at his face, instead of at the only person in the world Dean’s heart still beat for.

That was a long time ago.

“Cas...” He finds himself pleading, even though he knows it’s pointless to try. God knows how long has begged, for such a long time. But Dean gave up on him the second he gave up on himself. Yet what he’s asking him to do now- he can’t even stomach it. Please don’t make me do it, God, please. “Cas...I know you’re in there. Deep down- if there was ever a time to come out-” his voice breaks but he has to finish- “-now would be...great.”

His hand slackens on Dean’s shoulder for a moment, and for just a second Dean allows himself to hope.

But it’s in vain. He only slides his hands down Dean’s scarred arms, stepping closer and pressing his chest to Dean’s back. His strong, pale hands grip Dean’s shaking gun and make his aim steady. Then, slowly, he snakes his neck around to Dean's level, brushing his rough cheek with a cool lip. Dean still can’t meet his- those eyes- he squeezes his shut.

“Dean, Dean...Dean. How many times can I tell you? The Castiel you used to know is dead. I took his place- I’m the true Castiel now. And your pleading won’t change that. Won't bring him back.” His words send icy tremors through Dean and they when they meet his heart he can’t stop the pang of loss, can’t stop the hot tear that escapes from his tightly shut eyes.

“But you’re not my Cas,” he chokes, his throat closing up in grief. That traitorous tear streams down his face without a sound, and Dean tries to ignore that sick warmth that shivers through him as Castiel’s tongue flickers out to taste it. He presses his cheek against Dean’s, and he can feel the skin in his face tighten as he smiles, savoring the salty pain in the tear.

“No.” Castiel laughs darkly. “...But you, Dean Winchester, are mine. Your mind. Your body.” He slides his teeth lightly across Dean’s ear, making him shudder. “Your heart...your soul. Every part of you belongs to me, Dean. I’m asking you to do this for me. One simple thing. Naturally it will hurt, but the pain will fade. I promise you that.” For a moment, a flicker of pain works into his cold voice. But like a blink or a brush of summer wind, it’s gone.

“And then nothing will contest your affection for me, nothing will worm its way between us. That’s what you want, correct? To be with me...forever?” He pauses, a tip of his lip curling. “Don’t you love me, Dean?” He makes his voice questioning and he furrows his brow, putting on the old Cas face that used to be full of compassion and kindness, but now knew only malignance. It’s all for show- he knows what the Winchester’s answer will be.

“Yes, Cas,” Dean breathes, his green eyes slowly opening to reveal anguish- but resolved anguish all the same. “I love you more than anything.” His voice quavers as it passes from his lips.

“And I you,” Castiel says, baring his sharp, white teeth in a victorious smile. “Now...pull the trigger. Please, Dean...for me.”

“Yes, Cas," he repeats, voice numb. His expression slides off his face like water. "I will...because I love you.” He lifts the gun slowly, and Castiel gives his arms the strength to hold it steady- while locking them upright. Dean swallows roughly, trying to shove down the horror of what he's about to do deep inside himself.

There's no turning back.

The subject on the receiving end of the pistol stirs briefly in his chair, his eyelids fluttering open as he wakes. An aching moan rattles from his throat and he tilts his shaggy head, shifting his blood soaked, matted hair out of his face. He tries to move but the ropes keep him tightly bound to the chair he’s sitting in. Eyes darting around wildly, they eventually lock onto the gun pointed at his face, and travel to the face of the man with his finger on the trigger.

“D...Dean..?” he whispers faintly, his body freezing in the chair. His green eyes widen in horror, fixed on his brother’s face. “D- Dean- what’re you doing? Dean?!”

Dean presses his lips even tighter together and he looks at his little brother with all the sadness in the world etched on his face. Sam's eyes flicker to the dark Castiel looming over his brother, a glacial smile on his face and eyes alight with twisted, eerie triumph. A frightening smile curls Castiel's lips upwards, silently victorious, and Dean closes his eyes once again.

“I’m sorry, Sammy.”

He squeezes the trigger.