It wasn't the first time that Dean was glad he had a motorbike. It wasn't the first time that he was glad he could escape the car and his brothers and his dad. They were coming up to town now, the breeze from the sea colder and sharper than he'd noticed before. But he was free, and with a rev of the engine, he was racing ahead, past the sign that welcomed them to Santa Carla, and as he glanced over his shoulder to check that the car filled with their stuff was still following, he saw the scrawled graffiti on the back of the sign –"Murder Capital of the USA", and a shudder ran up his back that wasn't just a result of the wind.

He slowed, pulling in behind the car and getting the full force of his father's glare via the rear-view mirror. He didn't bother rushing off into town to explore on his own, although that had been his plan originally. It was probably for the best, even if John's mood had been gradually improving as the end of their road-trip came to an end, Dean didn't think that the old man's mood was good enough yet for John to restrain his temper if Dean just took off for a few hours and avoided the unpacking and the rest of it. He remembered Bobby, their dad's old army friend, but the visits were infrequent and as the money had disappeared, these little trips West had disappeared too. But now they had nothing to tie them to Kansas anymore, no house, no jobs, no nothing. Maybe this would be the fresh new start their dad hoped it would be. Maybe it would do everyone good.

John had been dreading the drive down if he was honest with himself. Moving the kids half way across the country because it turned out he was a terrible provider hadn't been in his plans and as much as he'd tried to cheer Sam and Adam up during the journey, telling them how they could go swimming every day and camp out in the backyard he knew it wasn't what either boy had wanted to hear. It had almost been a blessing Dean wasn't in the car with him; giving lip about how he'd pulled Sam and Adam out of school and uprooted them, as if John was unable to get a job out of spite. He hadn't seen Dean putting his back out to get any legitimate work either, although Dean always seemed to have money when they needed it. Perhaps moving him out here would be good for all of them in the end. He could channel Dean into something more wholesome than hustling pool which is what he damn well hoped his son did to get that extra money. It would be an experience for Sam and he needed his horizons broadened a little. Adam he hoped would just make friends. He was going to a new school now. Old life left behind. He could be his own person here and not a shadow of his older brothers.

But as John turned off the tarmac and onto a dirt track that led them out of town, he wondered if this was going to be what they'd expected. Dean had stopped too, looking around, a little lost. He certainly couldn't remember Bobby's place being as weird as this. There were charms, wind-chimes, hung from fence-posts and tree branches, animal skulls tacked up about the place. The noise of the wind through the chimes and the general tumble-down look of the place didn't exactly scream 'welcome', but Dean had no chance to ask his father if Bobby might have gone senile when the man stepped out onto the front porch, crossing his arms over his chest as he surveyed them. John and Bobby talked on the phone all the time. It was Bobby who'd suggested that they come up and live with him when the bank foreclosed on the house, but when you were talking to someone on the phone you couldn't see that they'd started hanging dead birds on a newly erected barb-wire fence. What in the world was he letting his boys in for, John thought as he stopped the car, taking the keys out of the ignition but not putting them in his pocket just yet. Just in case. He opened the door, stepping out and raised his hand - half to sheild his eyes from the glare of the sun and half in greeting to Bobby. The slam of the car door behind him told him that Sam and Adam had managed to get themselves out.

"What time to do you call this, you idjit? I was expecting you yesterday." Bobby said, and then came down the steps to meet his old friend, and look over the Winchester boys.

"Yesterday? Where you expecting me to drive though the night?" John wasn't going to risk causing an accident with Sam and Adam in the car, and not when Dean was out on that stupid contraption of his. No, they'd all been better off sleeping in a motel for the night and going on the next day. "We're here now, aren't we? That's what matters."

Bobby shrugged, "You would have driven all night, once. You're getting old." He said, and stopped in front of the man and the three boys.

John placed a hand on Adam's back, aware that Bobby had only heard about Adam before, never actually seen him in the flesh. He guided his youngest forward. John Winchester loved his kids, that much was clear, but it was in a very John Winchester way. A sort of fierce, frightening way that demanded respect but, Bobby was sure, didn't always get it. "Bobby, you remember Sam and Dean, of course, and this one is Adam."

Always polite Adam nodded in greeting. "Dad's talked a lot about you. It's nice of you to put us up." He said and John wondered if Adam didn't realise that Bobby wasn't putting them up till they got back on their feet. This was their home now. Or maybe Adam did realise that and was just choosing to ignore it.

Bobby looked over Dean and Sam quickly, as if the years hadn't changed the two oldest much at all. But Adam he had never met and he moved his eyes over him, almost critically, before nodding his acceptance. "You two can share a room, can't you? You and Sam? Not got the room to keep you all separate."

Sam hefted his bag, full of books, onto his shoulder and rolled his eyes at Bobby. "How do you think we slept at Dad's? It was hardly a palace." He said. He'd been used to sharing a room now for a while. First with Dean and then with Adam. It was just going to be in a different bedroom but that would be the only change. Dean would still have somewhere else to sleep and so would their dad. At least maybe this room would be a bit bigger. For a guy who lived on his own Bobby sure seemed to have a big house.

"Me and your dad never slept in palaces either." He said, not to belittle the boy's comment, but smiling slightly as he said it, although the beard mostly covered that. "You boys go on in." He said, gesturing back to the front door, horse-shoes tacked above it.

Dean shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a heavy, oddly lumpy bag in his arms. The Winchesters weren't known for their packing skills- everything had just been thrown into the bags they had, or boxes picked up from the market and then dumped in the car haphazardly at first, and then shoved in as they piled in more and more.

"The big guest room?" Dean asked Bobby, pretty sure he could remember the way- up the stairs, to the left, passed the bathroom, there it was. It was a big room, or it had been when he'd been a kid. It'd do Sam and Adam, they wouldn't be on top of each other at least. Bobby nodded and Dean called to his brothers, "Grab some stuff, follow me." Before heading inside, leaving Bobby and John alone. Not that he thought the two of them needed to talk, although god only knew their dad probably should. He wasn't a talker, none of them were- he just drank when he had stuff on his mind- like Dean did. But John probably could, and would, talk to Bobby, even if he couldn't talk to his sons. Or drunkly slur things at him anyway, and maybe that was good enough.

"They're not bad." Bobby was saying as led the others away, fingers sliding to his pockets, not sure if after all the years and everything that had happened to them both if a physical gesture of welcome was necessary. "There's beer in the fridge."

"Think you two will be okay here?" Dean said, once they were inside, and he kept his voice soft, out of hearing. The place was creeping him out a bit, making his spine tinge but John would accuse him of being stupid, and Bobby would say he was an idiot. In the war they'd been in worse, etc etc snore. "I know it's... odd, but... I think this whole town is sort of odd." Would they freak out if he mentioned the graffiti? It was really bothering him, but he reckoned it would freak Adam out much more, and Sam probably wouldn't think anything of it at all- or worse, he'd go the library and research it and find out if it was true. Dean didn't want to know.

Adam glanced at Sam, silently questioning his brother on who would answer Dean first. "Bobby was always odd." Sam said, as if that answered everything. He didn't really want to be standing there, chatting in the hallway where their dad or Bobby could walk in at any moment and when he had his heavy bag full of books on his back and a boxed filled with clothes in his arms. You wouldn't think clothes were that heavy but Sam was beginning to suspect he'd packed everything he'd ever owned in his wardrobe into this despite the fact that he was certain he'd gone through everything, tried it on at home and then thrown out what he didn't need or what didn't fit any more. It would be just like dad to come along, find his clothes ready to go to Good Will and decide to keep them for Adam. Adam had more hand-me-downs then he had his own things. "I think a bit of odd is good. We'll be the odd kids that live with the weird hermit so we should get used to that."

Adam shifted, uncomfortable. Sam and Dean at least had been here before, had met Bobby before. All of this was new to Adam. He wanted to ask if the dead things were normal but there wasn't really a good answer to that question so he just let it lie. "I guess everywhere seems odd till you live there. When we're settled it'll be fine." He said optimistically, ignoring Sam because he really didn't want to be the outsider at his new school. It was going to be hard enough being the new kid, much worse being the kid that a load of freaky rumours were going round about. "At least it's summer. We might get a chance to meet people before term starts, settle in a bit." He pointed out, turning his head so he didn't have to see that Sam was rolling his eyes at him.

Whatever Sam might have said to convince him otherwise, Dean thought Bobby's place was odd. Okay, inside, it wasn't. It was actually kind of big and rambling, or at least, bigger than their home in Lawrance had been. There was enough room for all of them, at least when they weren't fighting. Nowhere on earth was big enough for the Winchesters when they fell out, but Bobby's place hadn't been put to the test like that, at least not yet. He didn't know if it would survive, not even with the weird things stuck on the fences.

He was pretty sure that no one would notice if he went missing for a few hours in the evening. He grabbed his jacket, and the motorbike keys, and headed for the door, shouting that he was heading out. There was a grunt from Bobby (slightly different in pitch than his father's grunts, less concerned) and then the door was shutting behind him. The sun was setting but as he drove into town, the hills shielded him from its glare. But he wore shades anyway- he was at the beach for fuck's sake, you wore shades. And he wasn't all that surprised to find his bike wasn't the only one parked up at the gates to the boardwalk. Nice bikes too, expensive bikes. More expensive than his, anyway. And well looked after. He felt an edge of jealousy, but let it go, following the crowd of people and the pounding music onto the boardwalk itself, towards the bright lights of fairground rides.

Dean didn't have any real purpose in mind, he supposed he should find a pool-hall so he could get a bit of cash together, but he was distracted by those thoughts as a figure moved through the crowd in front of him. Everyone was moving about, that was true, but the boy that had passed him had caught his eye, although Dean didn't know why, hadn't got long enough of a look at him to know anything apart from his heart was beating harder in response, much harder than he could remember it having done before. He followed, as best he could, moving through the mass of people, and there, there he was.

He wasn't alone, and that made Dean's spirits plummet. He'd wanted to... talk to him, get him a drink maybe, find out who he was but the guy with him was tall, broad and had this undeniably protective air as he turned slightly to talk to the younger man. Who had, Dean could see now, the most piercing blue eyes he'd ever seen. "Whoa." He managed, under his breath, not realising that now he was well within hearing.

Castiel was aware of someone watching him. He was always aware of when people were looking at him and he would admit his attention had been drawn by the young man who was following him now. He was hardly more than a youth though, painfully young even if Castiel knew he looked young himself - eternally young like the rest of them. He didn't feel young though, not really, not in his bones, which ached like they knew they shouldn't be of use any longer.

He ignored the man's gaze and found Michael instead. It was always better to be with Michael. There were so many people, so many and they all throbbed and he felt like he could hear them, hear the taste of them although how could you describe the sound of someone's taste? Maybe that was why Lucifer had always liked them young. He said it felt like innocence, the blood of the young and if blood could feel like an idea, an emotion then taste could have a sound. Unconsciously Castiel licked his lips and took a step closer to his brother. The man following him had sounded like rebellion. He might taste like it too. Castiel was in no hurry to find out the truth of that.

"Michael," He said, reaching out to touch his brother's arm. "I think we should go home." It was too much. They came out a lot. The night time suited their brothers and sisters. Castiel was used to staying up all night and sleeping all day even if the sunlight didn't bother him the way it bothered the others. He knew Lucifer liked the boardwalk, liked running through the crowds of tourists and locals, the mix of the young and the not-so-young, following their scents, their sounds, trying to pick out the one that called to him strongest. It had been a very long time since either he or Michael had tried to dissuade their family from the hunt. Death seemed so inevitable. Instead they could cling together and make sure neither of them ever succumbed to temptation. "I feel..." He said and he knew he wouldn't have to say more. Michael would know what to do.

The young man was still watching them and Castiel wanted to get away from him, as far away as he could go because he was so cocksure and so very new. He didn't have the same sound as everyone else, he didn't have that salty tang to him that those born by the sea had, his body thrummed with the solidness of earth and wind-whipped dust. He was different and for the first time in a very long time Castiel really felt it in his bones what he was, what he almost was, and how simple it would be to take the last step. His head snapped up as the man said something, Castiel not really catching it but he fixed his gaze on him and tightened his grip on Michael's arm.

It was almost as if this man wanted to offer himself up, like he was a walking sacrifice but Castiel knew that wasn't true. People often went to death willingly but they didn't understand that was what they were going to. They saw beautiful, youthful bodies, they saw sex. They wanted, they offered, they died. Just because the man thought he knew what he wanted it didn't mean he did.

Michael had felt the presence of the stranger behind them too, felt it like an itch between his shoulder blades but no more than that. Sometimes people followed them, felt the hair on the nape of their neck stand as the brothers walked passed, and followed them to find out why, but their interest normally only lasted a few short minutes before they got bored, or one of their other siblings put a stop, permanently, to what they were doing. The lucky ones gave in to the self-preservation instinct and left Michael and his ward alone.

He let Castiel cling to him a little closer, but when he heard that sound, the man's voice, he turned and his eyes narrowed. This was the sort that normally ended up being fished out from under the boardwalk. And Michael couldn't care less about that, but he did not want Castiel to be the cause. Sometimes, less often now than before, but sometimes he knew how intense the pressure was, the temptation to join the rest of the family in eternity but Michael had never felt ready, never felt willing enough to do that and take that step, and he knew Castiel wasn't. Castiel wasn't a killer, of that he was sure.

And neither was he. At least, not unless one of his family was threatened.

"It's alright." He murmured, the words only for Castiel and he turned, to look at the man that had tailed them across the boards. He wasn't short, no, just an inch or so shorter than Michael, and although he wasn't as broad in the shoulders, he was strong. Michael could see that without any of his other senses needing to tell him that. But he could also, overwhelmingly, feel that this man (he certainly wasn't a boy) had something to prove. Some sort of rite of passage that he had still not committed, something that singled him out as incomplete. Frankly, Michael couldn't care less.

"Have you finished upsetting my brother for tonight?" He asked, protective arm moving to Castiel's shoulders.

Dean stopped, surprised that he had got so close to the pair and that he'd been so loud. He'd thought they wouldn't notice him, but he'd been following in sort of a trance, his brain there but his common scene dulled and all he'd wanted was to be closer to the beautiful young man. The beautiful young man who wasn't on a date. Something in him sang out at that, although that was in sharp contrast to the rest of him, everything else inside him telling him to turn around and walk away now.

But a Winchester never ran away from a fight, and that's what he assumed this was. What the sudden cold-sweat on his back was. Nerves before a fight. But he stood his ground, he always did, even if it meant he limped away later, and he straightened himself up, trying to make himself seem as big as the other man. They were about the same age, Dean was sure of it.

"I didn't think I was upsetting him." He said, to the tall one, and then his attention shifted to the smaller, sweeter boy, the one with those unbelievably blue eyes, eyes that looked a little worried. "I'm sorry. I really couldn't help it. Dean Winchester." He said, introducing himself with a grin. One that he hoped was handsome and friendly.

Castiel looked up at his brother, almost wanting to say that he had tried and it wasn't his fault that the man was careless with his life but he knew Michael wouldn't accept that. Castiel wanted to stay human, wanted to have a moral compass and not turn into some creature of the night that fed on human flesh. He could be stronger than one handsome tourist with distinctly interesting blood. The man didn't deserve to be hurt because Castiel was hungry. He bit his own lip hard, tasting the blood there and felt instantly a little better. It wasn't the same as drinking from someone else. It wouldn't hurt him but it was soothing. He wasn't dead and the blood that still pumped in his veins had some spark of life in it. It wasn't really good enough, didn't completely take away the gnawing in his stomach but he was calmer now. He could face the man without wanting to dive at his throat.

"You couldn't help it?" He asked, tilting his head to the side to regard the man who was now grinning at him. He looked so very much alive. It was strange that that was the thing Castiel thought he should find so attractive about him. He was handsome, once he had subdued the sensation that he was looking at an appetising meal and not at a person but it was the fact that he was so alive that Castiel liked. "Castiel Novak. It is a pleasure I am sure." He gestured to Michael, aware that his brother might not be in the best of moods to be polite to anyone, especially a strange man Castiel was enamoured of, even if it had been mostly of him as a meal. "This is my brother, Michael."

It should have ended there. They should have introduced themselves, maybe gone on a few of the rides and then the man should have left. He would have been safe. That was all Castiel really wanted, more than to have the man near him. It would be better for both of them if they were completely apart, possibly separated by a few states. Eventually each of them had met someone they couldn't resist, someone whose blood sung to them, apart from Lucifer who had awoken craving any and all blood and never stopped or had a moment of doubt before casting off his humanity. Castiel was perfectly certain Dean Winchester was that person for him, the one he could fall for, but he had resisted so far. He would resist longer.

Dean liked the boy. Liked the way he talked and the way he chewed at his lip and the way he stood. He was poised, not like some sort of predator, not like that at all, but he was... there was something in him, something waiting, ready, and Dean didn't know what it was but he liked it. He sort of felt the same, like he was ready for something; something to happen that would change everything, forever. Somehow Dean knew it, deep in his bones, in his blood. This place, Santa Carla, it was going to change everything.

And it was going to happen then. He knew it. "Castiel?" He repeated, trying the name on for size, liking the sound of it, the uniqueness of it. He'd never, ever heard that name before. But it was an old name, like Old Testament sort of old. "The pleasure's all mine. And yeah, I couldn't help it. I wanted to meet you. And your brother too, I guess." He said, the tall, broad man clearly not very happy with this turn of events, but he wasn't watching Dean, not really, he had his eyes on Castiel, as if Castiel was the one that would jump Dean and not the other way around.

Castiel frowned. His name had not exactly been normal when his parents had baptised him but they were a large family, religious names for their sons were normal and they were devout people. They had scoured their bible for appropriate names for their sons and Castiel could always be pleased that strange though his name was he wasn't called Lucifer. Castiel wasn't a special angel or anything, just the angel of Tuesday, so there was nothing for the real Castiel to live up to. Not like his brother who had managed to make his name far too fitting. "It is old fashioned. I know." He murmured. He should be used to people's comments now but he never was. "Well, you have met us now." He said bluntly. It would most likely be construed as rudeness and that was for the best. The man should leave.

"Cassie!" The voice behind him made the sluggish blood in his veins run cold and Castiel turned his head, almost begging fate for it to be wrong. His sister was standing there, all dark hair and luscious curves and the sort of smile that made men weak at the knees. She smiled at him and then at Dean. "I see you made a friend, Cassie. Weren't you going to tell us? You know Luci likes to meet all our friends."

Both Michael and Dean turned to look at the new figure as she approached. Dean would have whistled, but for a moment every muscle and sinew in his body shut down, and all he could do was watch as the woman approached. She was no doubt about it, the most attractive woman he'd ever seen. Something about her radiated sensuality. And once Dean's tongue unglued itself from the roof of his mouth, he attempted to answer her, to reply with something witty. Something that would make the woman laugh.

Michael beat him to it. "This is Dean Winchester, Ruby." Michael said. Whatever Castiel's thoughts on the man- his interest was obvious, very obvious- Michael was happy to throw Dean to the wolves in order to keep his brother from biting him. To keep Castiel away, he could sacrifice the cock-sure stranger. Castiel might hate him for it for a while but he'd know it was the right thing, in the end. "I think he and Luci would get on." Michael added. He might be laying it on thick, but he didn't care who got rid of the guy, as long as it wasn't Castiel. It was better he lived, a long way from Castiel, of course, but it that wasn't possible, so be it.

Castiel shuddered, his heart constricted painfully in his chest as Michael talked and he knew that his brother wanted to protect him, was putting him above the strangers life but Castiel didn't want that. He hoped Dean would find it all too strange, would listen to his instincts and leave. Some people did. They lived.

Ruby raised an eyebrow. She distrusted any one that Michael attempted to shove her way. It usually meant that the person in question was just a little too interesting and from the way Castiel was practically vibrating next to him with suppressed hunger she could easily guess what he was trying to do. It was almost funny that he thought she couldn't tell. She glanced at Dean, wondering why Michael thought she was stupid. He was hardly Lucifer's type. Still, that didn't mean they couldn't have a bit of fun with the man and Castiel was always fun to tease.

"You think so?" She stepped into Dean's personal space, running her hand over his arm and she could almost feel the anger rolling off Castiel. He would never say anything. He was too good to ever strike out at a family member but she wondered just how far she could push him. If there was a limit that would make him snap. "Do you ride, Dean? I'll take you to meet the rest of the family."

This was strange. It was downright strange, closer to weird. Dean knew that. Dean knew it utterly and completely. But he didn't move away, forcing his eyes away from this girl, Ruby, was that what tall-and-broad had called her? His eyes went to Castiel, feeling some of his unease pass from his shoulders and he guessed that really, he should be trying to impress this girl, because that would impress Castiel. Castiel was so gorgeous, so... so distant and Ruby just seemed too real and near and in his face. She was stunning though. And he knew he was reacting to that, and the way her hand moved across him seemed to send a wave of goosebumps up his arm, across his chest and down towards the fire in his belly.

"Ride?" He repeated, with a laugh that felt like a swagger, a strut, some sort of posturing. "'Corse I ride." He nodded towards the bikes, the bikes that had been almost as stunning as Ruby, who was almost as stunning as Castiel, who held back too much, as if waiting, as if knowing it wasn't his turn first. Was this how they played? Kind of weird, but he'd heard things about California. "The bikes out there, they yours? Very nice." He said, and yes, maybe he meant the bikes, but maybe he meant Ruby and he wasn't exactly sure.

He was sure though that this was moving fast and really he would have rather, well, Castiel's hand sliding up his sleeve, feeling his heart pound. "Well, if you and Castiel are inviting me... sure, I'd love to ride with you." What had he got to lose? His dad was going to be drunk or asleep by the time he got home anyway, so he might as well stay out all night. He managed to tear his eyes away from Ruby's, although he felt like he was trying to drag his eyes through honey, no, maybe tar, something thick and heavy and sticky. "Would that be alright Castiel?" He asked, wanting to know if one of those bikes belonged to him. He didn't seem the type but if he didn't, he could ride pillion with Dean and Dean was more than a-okay with that. Ruby, he was sure, was the sort of girl with a bike. Something powerful, something that would sing down the asphalt. Something she could wear very little on.

Ruby almost wanted to laugh. He was asking Castiel for permission. Castiel out of all of them, their little brother. He'd never had very much presence before but apparently that was all changing now. Michael must be terrified. She would have enjoyed watching his expression, knowing Michael must be twisting and turning this way and that, wanting to protect the little innocent lamb. It had hurt him every time they had pulled away from him, followed Lucifer but Castiel had held out for over a hundred years. Eventually someone had to tempt him. He should have been pleased he could hold his control over Castiel for that long. No, she was certain if she pushed hard enough Castiel would drink from the man and become like them. Then there would be just Michael left and he loved his family too much to be apart from them forever.

"One of them's mine. One of them is Michael's and our other brothers are around here somewhere, they ride too. Castiel doesn't. He's too young." She said, the irony not lost on her that her little brother would be eternally seventeen. Too young for too many things. Too young for this man. If Castiel couldn't be broken with him then Ruby would have some fun. "I'm certainly inviting you, sugar." She said, throwing one arm around his shoulder and turning both of them to face Castiel and Michael, draped across him now and enjoying the way Castiel stared, stubborn and unhappy, at the places their bodies connected. "I don't know about Cassie."

Castiel hated the teasing and he hated that nickname. He wasn't young. He was old enough. He'd seen so many things, lived his half-life through so many things and yet he was cursed to a body that never changed, never showed any of it. He should be dust by now, long gone in almost all ways and Dean wouldn't have wanted dust but that didn't mean he didn't want to look older, didn't want the chance to grow up. "Yes, it's okay with me." He said quietly, knowing that he was leading Dean to his likely death but Ruby had made it a competition and he knew she would always win, was winning even now. He could tell Dean to go away, that he didn't want him to come with them and if Ruby snapped her fingers the man would still follow them. There was no point in fighting with her.

"I knew you'd ride." Dean muttered to Ruby as she closed the distance between them, moving against him in ways no sane man could resist. Dean knew he was easy. It just took a pretty face, not even a girl's pretty face and he and John had had so many fights about that. But Dean didn't care right now, body humming in barely controlled want, torn between wanting Castiel to break from his shell and the more obtainable delight promised by Ruby. Sure, his body had tingled- in a strange and almost unnerving way at first, but no longer.

So he wrapped his arm around her waist, hand settling on the outward curve of her hip, the pad of his thumb stroking a circle into the fabric there. Castiel's gaze seemed to follow the moment, and Dean had the urge to pull his hand away, as if suddenly shocked by electricity. But he didn't move, not until Castiel's eyes moved away and Michael's voice broke the spell.

"This way. The others will be waiting by now." Michael said, and then his hand went to Castiel's shoulder, mimicking the way Dean was holding Ruby, and for a moment, some really weird thoughts flickered into Dean's head. But that was all made up stuff, he was certain. People in California didn't really do that sort of thing.

He let himself be moved anyway, back toward the gates and then dug into the pocket of his leather jacket, and pulled out the key to his bike, his arm pulling away from Ruby. "So you have a lot of brothers? Where we all heading?" He asked her, wanting to make up some cheesy line about her being the only cute one, but that was obviously balls, Castiel was standing right there. Castiel who was probably too young but was still the one who had stirred Dean, who had attracted him, even if Ruby had taken that over. Even with her wrapped around him, caressing as they walked, her hips bumping against him, Dean had looked Castiel up and down, enjoyed the narrow waist and the shape of his ass and okay, he could get arrested for stuff like that, but not if it stayed in his head.

Or just between them. Dean could live with that.

"I have a lot of brothers." Ruby agreed. "And a sister but you probably won't meet her." Anna hardly ever came out. Avoiding people did mean you couldn't drink their blood but how boring her existence was. Ruby could never understand her sister on that matter but she had Dean right where she wanted him now so Anna was unimportant. "What about you Dean, any more like you at home?" Was someone going to be missing this man or was he all on his own. It was always easier to kill those without close ties but considering that that would leave them without a lot of choice in the diet department it never troubled her very much.

Dean snorted. "More like me? No way. I'm one of a kind." John Winchester would have had a heart attack by now if there was more than one. And he couldn't imagine anyone else in the family doing this, getting picked up by a girl like Ruby while trying to flirt with her brother. Sam just didn't know how to flirt and Adam... Dean didn't think any girl would confuse Adam for a straight boy. Not with the odd way his lips shimmered. No, he was the only one like him in the family, and for that, he was grateful. He climbed onto the bike, revving the engine till it purred. It had been a cheap bike, but Dean knew how to treat an engine, and the sound she made now was almost as beautiful as that made by much, much more expensive machines.

Ruby wasn't blind to the fact that Dean's eyes kept following Castiel and she smiled to herself. A hundred years of keeping himself on the shelf and now her little brother was the one attracting attention. Once she would have been so scandalised by the idea of sex and even more so by the idea that a man could have an interest in her little brother but that time had passed a long time ago now. She hardly batted an eye at the thought of it. Might loosen Castiel up a bit. Maybe this Dean should be allowed to stay around a little longer than she'd previously thought. "Come on." She said, pulling away from Dean as they reached her bike and she swing her leg over it, cradling the metal of the frame between her thighs. "Just follow me, sugar. I'll show you the way."

Castiel was at the point of almost biting through his tongue now. He slid onto Michael's bike behind his brother, wrapped his arms around him and felt him solid and warm and real. Michael wouldn't let him fall, wouldn't let him do something stupid even if Castiel felt like he was about to do something unforgivable. Michael had always protected him in the past and he would do it now. Castiel just wanted it all to stop.

Dean made a little gesture then, inviting her to lead the way. He didn't know exactly where he was being led to, but there was Michael alongside, and Castiel, so wherever it was, they were all heading that way. He let the bike draw a little closer to Michael's, pulling alongside, and he grinned at Castiel, "You can ride with me next time, if you want to go a little faster." He told the boy, before revving again and letting the throttle go, rushing forwards and speeding up ahead towards Ruby, cruising along the long, wide, and empty coast-road. He'd never gone driving with a group before, but this, this was something he could get used to. The freedom and the salt in the air and the very hot girl on the equally sexy bike and maybe Castiel riding with him.

And if there was a slight feeling of unease, a small amount of nervousness in him, then he could just put that down to fear of exactly what would happen when he got home and his dad's interrogation about "what the hell time did he called this". Not that he cared. Not if he was part of a bike gang now.

But Castiel knew there would never be another time, or another ride. He clung a little tighter to Michael, grateful for his brother because it would have been so tempting to slide onto the back of Dean's bike and then when they were driving along, when the man was distracted, just lean up, push himself up with the power Dean didn't know he had and sink his teeth into the man's neck from behind. They'd probably have crashed, ended up in a fiery ball of an explosion. Could fire kill a vampire? Castiel didn't know. They didn't drown, falling off the bridge they'd all take turns to jump off had never hurt them, the blunt force impact of a car had done nothing. Fire might, they'd never experimented with that which Castiel was grateful for.

They drove a little while along the motorway and then Ruby turned off, the other bikes following her, across the wasteland as the side of the road and then down to the beach. She stopped her bike, knowing she couldn't drive it further and slipped off, standing there and waiting for the others to follow. "Don't worry about leaving your bike here. No one ever comes down here and if they did then they wouldn't steal from us."

Castiel shivered. Anyone stupid enough to steal from them would never get the chance to do it again but he preferred not to think about that though. He was trying not to think about anything now. He felt so numb. He knew what he was doing, what he was allowing to happen but he did nothing to stop it. He could see Michael's logic in it and Castiel wanted to keep his humanity so much more than he wanted the man.

Michael stopped the bike, sliding off without a word, stopping a few feet away from the man and Ruby, not even looking at them but keeping his focus on Castiel. He would have much rather gone somewhere- taken Castiel for a walk along the sand, gone for miles and miles and they'd know that by the time they got back, it would all be over. Ruby might try and wait for them, knowing that it would distress Castiel, but she didn't have the patience. None of the others really had any patience- but he and Castiel had the patience of saints. He knew they did. But he didn't dare. He was strong, yes, and it took a lot to hurt him, but Ruby was capable of it. He'd tried to protect Castiel before, tried to take him away but Ruby had not taken kindly to that, and neither had Lucifer. He might be able to withstand it again, but he didn't want to attempt it. Not with Castiel already tempted.

The old caves under the rock cliff were probably the most inspired discovery they had ever made during their living years. It had been a childish discovery on a trip to the beach, everyone darting in and out of the rocks and Ruby thought it might have been Anna who found the gap that led to the caves but it was so long ago now that she didn't remember who had done what. Still, it was well hidden, you had to know it existed to find it and that had always kept them safe. They could bring people here, far away from prying eyes and then the bodies could be built into a bonfire on the beach or thrown out into the sea when they were useless. "Come on, this way." She said, slipping between the rocks and through a crack that hardly seemed wide enough but it widened out after a little way. They'd decorated it over the years, making it quite the little club house. They weren't that good at cleaning up and there were bottles here and there, discarded clothes that had mostly belonged to other people and other things they'd felt like taking. There was even a bed. They'd been very industrious at that time and Michael and Castiel still needed to sleep like normal people although they didn't sleep here, not when they knew what the bed was usually used for.

Ruby and Dean were already in the cave, and Michael knew he had to follow. He sighed, taking Castiel's hand and following the pair, hoping that soon he'd be allowed to take Castiel away, somewhere else. When Lucifer arrived, maybe the others would take Dean outside. He could only hope.

Dean had to admit, he was pretty impressed. There were caves back east, but not like this, nothing decorated, nothing filled with stuff and made, well, liveable in a sort of way that you could spend a few hours in here being cool and rebellious, but anything more than that was pretty weird. It was cool though, and if this was going to be his new hang out, he could get used to it. He'd never actually been one of the cool kids- he'd been the poor kid with the dad who couldn't keep down his job or hold down a relationship. Now he could be one of those cool, aloof guys, in a bike gang, free to go where they wanted when they wanted and do what they wanted.

"The others should be here soon. Want to play a game before they arrive?" Ruby asked him, smiling at Castiel and reaching for discarded beer bottle, sitting down on the rock floor and placing the bottle between them. "Maybe if you're lucky it'll land on Cassie. Otherwise he's just a bit of a frigid bitch."

Dean frowned. It was all well and good not getting on with your family, it was fairly normal. But you never did it in public, you presented a united front. The fact that Ruby could say that, call Castiel that in front of some stranger. "I'm certain that Castiel isn't a bitch." He said, looking back to the youngest. He didn't want Castiel thinking that he was going to be belittled and mocked by Dean; he didn't want Castiel thinking anything of the sort.

Ruby almost laughed at that but she managed to stifle it, an indelicate snort coming out from between her lips instead. Castiel was everyone's bitch. He folded so easily under pressure, he'd never had an original thought in his head that Ruby knew or if he had then he'd never acted on it. He was happy enough being Michael's shadow and that was all he'd been for the last hundred years. Even now, when what he really wanted was the man standing in front of her it was clear that Castiel would never take him. She almost pitied him but he was so very weak. If he wasn't her brother...

A noise drifted down to them, the sound of bikes revving and then falling silent. She looked up, smiling as she saw Lucifer, flanked as always by Zachariah and Raphael. "Gangs all here," She said, grinning at Dean. "My brothers." She spread her hands wide, taking in all of them, Castiel, Michael and the three new comers. "This is Dean Winchester. Castiel picked him up." She knew that wouldn't go unnoticed by Lucifer. Her brother smiled at her, the tips of his teeth already protruding and she could tell he was planning something. Possibly something painful. He did like playing games with their food.

"I'm Lucifer, but everyone calls me Luci." He said, extending a hand to Dean to shake. "I know, what where my parents thinking. Religious freaks. We don't live with them anymore." He said, moving to sit next to Ruby on the ground. "So, Cassie then. He's our baby, Dean. We're a pretty protective family but I think if Cassie is interested in you then we can trust his judgement." Next to him Ruby frowned. That was not what she'd been expecting her brother to say. She'd been expecting Lucifer to issue some sort of challenge or string Dean along before gesturing for them to all fall on him in an orgy of blood for daring to even think he was good enough. Was he bating Michael, trying to draw Castiel out away from him, offering him the man?

Lucifer reached behind him, drawing out a bottle - old, battered, only half full and held it out for Dean. "Have a drink." He said, smiling at him and across the cave floor Castiel's knees buckled under him.

Michael reached out, grabbing at Castiel and trying to steady him, to stop him collapsing all the way to the floor. The boy was pale, paler than usual or that was how it seemed and Michael could feel the presence in the room change; the air was heavier, every breath baited, waiting. This had never happened before, and aside from Crowley's initial rituals, Michael had never seen it done either. He didn't think any of them had. But clearly Crowley had taught his favourite among them all sorts of things.

Michael's hand moved, stroking Castiel's hair gently, trying to calm him, and to some degree, himself. Dean Winchester had seemed cocky, self-assured but Michael had not thought him a stupid looking man. But if he took that bottle, if he drank from it then he was one of them, family, and there was nothing anyone could do to save him. But if he didn't take that bottle now, if he refused Luci, then god only knew what would happen. They'd probably tear him apart there and then. And that was something Michael really did not want to witness.

Dean leant back on the sandy floor of the cave, surveying the beautiful blonde-haired man across from him. He couldn't be much older than Sam but fuck, he was gorgeous. He had that same quick, sly, smart look that Ruby had, he looked more like some sort of fox, something sharp. Not like Castiel, who looked far too open and honest to ever be compared to something like that. What was it about this family? There wasn't even a hint of an ugly gene in any of them.

"He's not said if he's interested in me yet." Dean replied, looking towards Castiel, clinging to his brother and he looked almost scared. Why? Because he thought Dean would turn down the offer? Because this was all some sort of test? What was in the bottle? Not that he cared- he could match his dad drink for drink nowadays and frankly deserved a medal for that. Nothing in that bottle could, or would, faze him.

Lucifer laughed softly. "Oh, he's interested. You wouldn't be here otherwise." He wouldn't be offering this chance to Dean, a chance to join them. Castiel proved annoyingly stubborn in almost all matters and since it was clear his little brother hungered after this man but was refusing to drink then there were other ways to skin a cat as the saying went. Castiel's dependency on Michael had to be broken first and here was this man who had so enticed his little brother, who could make Castiel dependent on him instead. And once the man drank then Castiel would drink too because he always wanted so desperately to please. It was sickening really but Lucifer was being more than kind to Castiel. None of the rest of them had been given this right. They had never made another one of them before.

Dean reached forward, and took the bottle from Lucifer's hand, eyes on Castiel still as he took a swallow- the liquid thick, rich and metallic. It wasn't until it hit the back of his throat that he realised what it was, but it was too late to stop by then. He was a Winchester, and he wasn't going to show surprise. He righted the bottle, having taken another swallow, and passed it back, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and feeling his heart beat faster, chest swell with anticipation. "Prefer beer," He admitted, his attention moving back to the others in front of him. If this was a test, he hoped to hell he'd passed.

The smile that spread across Lucifer's lips was dazzling. Castiel certainly had chosen well. This man would be unstoppable, his hunger, his thirst. He would be crazy in his blood lust and he'd drag Castiel down into that with him because soon he'd be able to tell, the way that they all could tell, the desire Castiel had for him. He wouldn't hold himself back from taking that, Lucifer was sure. He laughed, clapping Dean on the shoulder. He'd known what it was, but he hadn't stopped. He'd not even let his expression change.

"Had to make sure you'd trust us." He said, grinning at Dean. "Congratulations, you're one of us. Is that your bike out there? Nice ride. I think maybe we should hit the road again, what do you think Dean?" Because Dean, who had drunk the blood without so much as a second thought and who was the first outside their family drawn into the fold, was his new best friend. "I'll even let Cassie ride with you, now you're one of us." He said, and for that moment, his teeth were bared.