Title: From Hell With Love, pt. 6

Author: Dire Banshee

Pairing: Michael/Dean/Castiel (for this part), implied past Dean/Alastair

Genre: AU after Season 3, you just need to know who Alastair and Castiel are

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: 2,665

Disclaimer: Yes, I, Eric Kripke, have nothing better to do with my time than write fanfiction of my own show. Pffft, I wish. Not mine, never will be

Warnings: wing!kink, dub-con rough sex, collaring, double penetration

Summary: Michael devises a plan to block Alastair's connection to Dean so the human can finally begin healing

Michael was, to say the least, shocked by Castiel's appearance after the Seraphim had taken Gabriel's advice and sought Michael's council again, for the first time in decades.

"Castiel?" the Archangel questioned when the Seraph landed outside of his door. He took one look at the state of Castiel's Grace and quickly ushered the other angel into his quarters, sending out a call for the healers.

"What happened, Castiel?" Michael demanded. "Who have you been battling?"

At the younger angel's reply of "Alastair" Michael very nearly saw red, to use the human expression, and immediately called Gabriel and Raphael to his side. The healer, a young angel named Zuriel, arrived almost immediately and set to work restoring Castiel's Grace that had been battered and stretched thin from so many years of standing between the Archdemon and his prize as the angel explained to Michael what had been happening.

"I'm sorry, Brother," Castiel concluded after the healer had finished and left Michael's quarters. "I fear I'm not strong enough to hold Alastair off for much longer."

There was a weary sigh from the doorway.

"Little bro," Gabriel said, preceding Raphael into the room. "With an attitude like that, you and Dean deserve each other."

Michael frowned at Gabriel before giving a brief but thorough recap of what Castiel had told him then instructed Raphael to lead several garrisons on a search of Heaven's defenses and perimeter to see if he could find the weak spot Alastair had been exploiting. When the eldest Archangel turned to address Castiel again he found Gabriel beside the Seraph, running gentle fingers through Castiel's feathers. The angel's eyes were closed, his features arranged into an expression of absolute bliss as Gabriel groomed him. Seating himself beside the Messenger, Michael coaxed Castiel's other wing onto his lap. The silver-tipped blue feathers were as unruly as Castiel's hair and, as he combed them into place, it didn't take Michael long to find the first damaged one.

The shaft had snapped about half-way down, the bottom portion hanging by a thread, and leaking Grace-light over Michael's fingers. Gripping the damaged feather at the base he gave it a firm tug, making Castiel yelp in pained surprise as it slid free, a small bead of blood welling up in the empty spot. Michael pressed his thumb over the spot, rubbing gently to soothe the pain as Castiel flinched again when Gabriel removed another feather.

"When was the last time you had someone see to your wings, Brother?" Michael asked.

"Too long," Gabriel replied before Castiel could answer, jerking out another damaged feather.

Wincing, Castiel nodded. "Too long."

"This isn't a burden you need carry alone, Castiel," Michael said, smoothing feathers into place. "There aren't many of our Brothers who could stand against a demon of Alastarir's power for long and even fewer that could best him. That you've held him at bay for so long is impressive."

"Or stupid," Gabriel muttered, pulling another damaged feather.

Michael glowered at the youngest Archangel and Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"Impressive works too, I guess," he grumbled.

"Not enough," Castiel said softly, folding his wings to his back and turning to face his Brothers. "I cannot keep Alastair away and Dean is suffering because of it." He glanced down before saying, "You may need to choose another guardian for him, Michael."

Castiel's tone was sincere but his wings trembled against his back, betraying his true feelings.

"I may," Michael replied, watching the Seraph's wings drop in resignation before continuing, "But only if this doesn't work first."

Castiel and Gabriel were both watching him with near identical expressions of confusion, Castiel's head tipped slightly to one side.

"If what doesn't work?" Gabriel demanded.

Rather than answer Michael reached into Castiel's wings, which the Seraph allowed, and yanked free a long, healthy covert, pinching the tip between his fingers to hold in the Grace that dripped free before digging through his own feathers. Gabriel's eyes were huge as understanding dawned.

"No way!" he exclaimed as the eldest angel pulled free one of his own feathers and pressed it beside Castiel's, his fingers rubbing Grace-light over both. "Michael, you can't be serious!"

"I am," he replied, not taking his eyes off of his work.

"But…"

"If this does not work, I fear we'll have very little hope of winning the coming war," he said. "The Righteous Man must be saved and that will not happen as long as Alastair can still get to him."

Castiel was watching them silently, his eyes fixed on the object Michael had twisted their Grace and feathers into. It shown like silver in the light but twisted and moved like softest leather, the Enochian sigils for protection, healing and ownership engraved upon the band.

"Brother," he began hesitantly and Michael looked at him, standing and holding out a hand.

"Come, Castiel. Let us go and save your human."

By the time Michael and Castiel reached Dean's rooms, the human was beginning to wake. He whined softly as the angels slipped into the room, the ever-present embers of need beginning to flare into flames of desire. Castiel went to him immediately, smoothing a cool hand over Dean's sweaty forehead and carding fingers through his hair.

"Master," Dean whispered and nuzzled against the angel's hand, his tongue darting out to lick Cas' palm.

"Dean," Castiel spoke. "This is my Brother, Michael."

Dean followed Master's eyes to the other angel standing by the door, a vague spark of recognition flaring at the sight. Dean knew this angel; he'd been there when Master Alastair had given him away. He'd given Dean to Master Castiel. His eyes flicked back to his Master, wondering if he was going to give him to this angel for the day. Master Alastair had done that a lot; he'd enjoyed watching Dean being fucked by other demons, seeing if they could make him scream like he did for Alastair. Sometimes they had and then he'd be punished for daring to replace his Master.

Dean's eyes were wide as he studied Master Castiel's face. Why was the other angel here? Was he being punished? But what had he done? He'd been obedient, hadn't done anything Master Castiel told him not to, hadn't hurt himself… Then, it dawned on him. He'd made Master Castiel hurt him. The angel hadn't wanted to but Dean had disobeyed, had hurt himself when Master told him not to… he'd forced his Master!

Castiel frowned at Dean's horrified face, looking to his Brother for an explanation of the soul's behavior. Michael sent him a reassuring pulse of Grace, telling him without words that all would be well, to trust him and Castiel gave a brief nod. The Archangel's expression was stony when he turned to Dean. The man was his true vessel, or would have been had things gone differently, a fact that gave the Archangel a greater connection to the soul. He'd heard Dean's panicked thoughts and, Father forgive him; he was going to use the human's fears to force his cooperation. Dean had to be himself before the War began and that would never happen while he was under Alastair's thumb.

"I think you owe your Master an apology, Dean," Michael said, his voice a low growl of disapproval that had Dean ducking his head in submission. "Show him how sorry you are."

Castiel frowned at his Brother, forehead creased and blue eyes troubled as Dean scrambled to make amends. The Seraph suddenly had a lapful of naked human nuzzling at his neck, hands trailing over his body, seeking out his hot spots with deadly accuracy. He let out a startled groan of pleasure as Dean's hand slipped into his pants and gripped his cock in a large, hot hand, stroking him the way he enjoyed most. Castiel's eyes flicked uncertainly to his Brother, who had moved closer to the bed and stood watching them with hooded, unreadable eyes. His wings were pressed tight to his back and his Grace was held tightly in check, giving nothing away and leaving Castiel with the unexplainable urge to keep the Archangel far from Dean.

Michael's eyes rose to his and a soft breeze blew through the room. Castiel thought he could hear his Brother's voice on the wind. Trust me. Licking dry lips, Castiel tightened his arms around Dean's shoulders and nodded then caught Dean's face between his hands.

"I'm sorry, so sorry, forgive me please Master," Dean whispered the litany over and over, his breath brushing Castiel's lips before the Seraph nodded and sealed his mouth over Dean's, cutting off the words.

His hands swept down Dean's sides but Dean gave a sudden broken whimper at the same moment Castiel felt his Brother's hands under his on Dean's hips, pulling the human back toward the Archangel. Dean's arms were tight around Castiel's shoulders, silently begging the Seraph to keep him, to not let the other angel hurt him, and Castiel ran a soothing hand through his hair as Michael growled, "Be still, Dean."

The human stilled in Castiel's arms, his larger frame trembling in uncertainty. Castiel kissed his mouth; his cheeks and the small dots of color on them ran soothing hands over Dean's back and down his sides and Dean buried his face in Castiel's throat, barely making a sound as Michael slipped three slick fingers inside of him. He didn't want this other angel to fuck him, Dean realized. He would, if Master Castiel told him to , but he really didn't want to, didn't really want Master Alastair's visits either but he was so accustomed to them, some small part of him missing his first Master but he silently swore that he'd give it all up if Master Castiel would just keep him, please just keep him.

Castiel's eyes found his Brother's as Dean pleaded and begged against his skin, clinging to him with all of his strength. Michael's face was grim, the glowing collar wrapped around his hand pulsing with their combined Graces reminding of what had to be done. He felt like a bastard, opening Dean up while the human clung to his Brother and begged for Castiel to keep him, but he also took heart. The true Dean Winchester was beginning to shine through, the proximity of both Seraph and Archangel blocking Alastair's influence enough to begin winning Dean back a piece at a time. He pressed his lips to the back of Dean's neck, an apology for the necessity of his actions, as he withdrew his fingers and spoke in Dean's ear.

"Ride your Master, Dean," he commanded. "Show us who you belong to."

Dean eagerly shifted forward, helped by Michael's hands still on his hips, and impaled himself on Castiel, letting out a low moan of pleasure as his Master's cock split him open. Castiel himself was looking a little shell shocked by his Brother's actions and words, his wings flared out on either side to maintain his balance as Dean rode him hard and fast, muttering apologies and promises to be better against his neck and Michael tried to offer him a reassuring smile. Their actions were working but this would get worse before it got better. They needed to sever Alastair's ties to Dean and replace them with Castiel's own or, if not sever, at least make Castiel the one Dean turned to first for comfort and safety, for protection from things in his waking world.

Dean clenched hard around the cock inside of him, arching into Master Castiel's touches and soaking up his words of praise and forgiveness. Master Cas' hand wrapped around his own erection and Dean realized with a shock that he was close to cumming, so close and with none of the pain he'd been craving for so long but then the other angel's hands tightened on his hips, preventing him from moving. He whined in frustration but stilled when Master Castiel breathed the soft command into his ear. The sound turned to a high keen of pain as the other angel began pushing into him alongside Master Castiel and Dean tried to wiggle away from the stretching, tearing, burning pain as the other cock forced him wider than he'd been in a very long time.

Dean was shaking by the time Michael bottomed out inside of him and the Archangel paused, running a soothing hand down the human's spine and closing his own eyes as he tried to collect himself. It had been a very long time since he'd done this, ever since Lucifer… Gritting his teeth he took a deep breath and locked eyes with Castiel who looked almost as pained as his human, though not in the same way.

I'm sorry Brother, he thought before commanding, "Hold him."

Castiel tightened his jaw and locked his hands over Dean's shoulders, holding the human in place as Michael began to move. He could feel his Brother sliding against him inside of Dean and closed his eyes, fighting back the surprising pleasure and brought his wings up to caress Dean's sides, Dean's pleas cutting to his heart.

Michael forced himself to be quick, holding the collar out to Castiel as he neared his peak. He had to tap the Seraph on the shoulder and wait for Castiel to open his eyes before he could hand it over, his other hand tightening on Dean's hip as the unwelcome pleasure suddenly spiked and he spilled himself, Grace and essence both, inside the human as Castiel fastened the collar around Dean's neck.

Pulling out as gently as he could he nodded to Castiel and fled their quarters through the wash room that looked out over the Garden. Castiel watched his Brother go but swiftly turned his attention to the shaking human in his arms. He urged Dean's head up from where he'd buried his face in Castiel's shoulder and gently wiped away the tears that coursed down his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please," he was whispering over and over, his eyes clenched shut tight.

"Dean," Castiel said gently. "Dean, look at me."

He eventually coaxed Dean's green eyes open and forced a smile to his own face.

"You did very well, Dean," he praised. "You were so good and that will never happen again, I promise you. It was the only way we could protect you from Alastair."

He enfolded Dean in his wings, pulling the human tight to his chest and muttering soothing words in Enochian and English and languages Dean had never heard until Castiel's thumb brushed the collar around Dean's throat. The human gasped at the sudden spark of pleasure that coursed through him at the action, his loosened channel fluttering around where Castiel was still buried inside of him and Dean rocked his hips, pressing his half-hard erection against Master Cas' belly. Castiel's hands tightened on his hips, looking into Dean's eyes as he asked, "Are you sure, Dean?"

Dean rocked again, Master Cas brushing against his sweet spot deep inside and nodded, "Please."

Castiel enfolded them completely in his wings as he began rocking his hips in time with Dean, not thrusting, just moving slowly, gently as they held and touched and kissed, breathing each other's air until the waves broke over them both.

Gabriel found Michael in one of the hot springs in the Garden, submerged up to his neck, curled in on himself with his wings wrapped tight around his body. He sat down without a word, dangling his feet in the water, occasionally brushing his brother's feathers with his feet.

"Did it work?" he asked quietly and Michael nodded, the first indication he'd given of acknowledging Gabriel's presence.

"Are you okay?"

Michael was silent for a long time, gazing out over the Garden, then sighed.

"I just want it to be over."

Gabriel's gaze fell to the grass at his side, absently running his fingers through the soft blades.

"You and me both, bro," he finally said. "You and me both."