Chapter Text
Dean Winchester woke up sore, the good kind, with a burn from repetitive use of his thighs, tender nipples, arms that felt stretched out and noodle-y. Even his lips were tired.
With a pleased hum, he rolled onto his back, and then frowned. One place was a lot sorer than it had ever been before. In fact, he frowned harder, his ass damn well hurt.
Had he let some lady peg him last night? Just what had he been drinking?
He got his eyes open. They felt a little crusty. And instead of crummy wallpaper, he saw the walls of his room. In fact, he was tucked into his bed like a neatly folded shirt in a drawer, wearing his boxers, undershirt, and socks.
And no, he hadn’t been drinking last night. He—They’d been on a hunt, he and Cass and Sam and Jack.
Witches, he thought with disgust as he sat up. They’d been after some witches.
Oh crap, head rush.
With a groan and a wince, he got out of bed and staggered over to the sink, flicking a glance at the mirror before he reached for the faucet.
And then he stood there, blinking at the weeks-old whiskers on his face. He had a damn beard.
“Sam!” he shouted, heading out his door. “Sam!”
“Dean!” Sam said, meeting him in the hallway. Thank God, his brother looked exactly the same, hair too long, eyes all worried. A huge hand clamped down on Dean’s shoulder. “You’re up! How do you feel?”
Dean made sure he didn’t say he felt like his ass had been introduced to a nuclear missile. “I feel like something is going on. How long have I—” He gestured.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
“We were heading to Ohio in Baby, going after a coven.”
Sam’s eyes got bigger. “Dean, that was six weeks ago.”
“Dean!” Jack called out as he entered the hall, then raced up to throw his arms around his father. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”
“I’ve been asleep for six weeks?” Dean demanded.
Jack pulled back, not meeting his eyes. Sam looked a little spooked.
“Uh, not quite.”
“What does that mean?”
Sam backed up a step, then did that uncertain smile thing he did. “Let’s get you some coffee first,” he said, then swung around to get to the kitchen.
“Sam,” Dean growled, but the big guy kept going, and coffee did sound pretty good.
Cass was waiting for them, holding out a full mug with a blank expression on his face. Dean took it, looked over the three of them, held up a finger, drank half the mug, and then set it down on the metal counter.
“All right, spill. What the hell happened?”
“You were taken,” Sam said.
“Dean, what’s the very last thing you remember?” Castiel asked.
“We were in the car. I was driving. Iron Maiden was playing. Jack was talking about—” He frowned.
“Dinosaurs,” Jack said. “I was talking about dinosaurs.”
“OK, yeah. I kinda remember that.”
“That’s at least three hours before we reached the mansion,” Sam said.
“What mansion?”
“The coven,” Sam told his brother. “They were staying there, three of them.”
“We burst in on them,” Jack said. “You don’t remember?”
“Not a bit.”
“That might be for the best,” Cass said, looking at Sam, who instantly shook his head.
“No, Cass. Dean needs to know.”
“Why?” the angel asked.
“Because Dean is standing right here and wants to know!” Dean said.
“Dean.” Cass turned to faced him, his face intent but still oddly blank. “The trial to get you out was most unpleasant for you. You were under a spell. We got you out of there only through great suffering on your part. There’s no need for you to recall the horrors of—”
“Cass!” Sam said, looking horrified. “I’m sure that’s not true!”
“I was there, Sam,” Cass said, oddly fierce. “He was under their thrall, and freeing him was an ordeal he would just as well do never to remember.”
“Cass,” Sam said, sounding almost hurt.
The angel shook Sam off and turned to Dean squarely. “My advice is for you to resume your life and see if any memories surface on their own, which they shouldn’t. But the magic involved was, in a word, complex.”
“Yeah, see, I’m not OK with that.”
“Dean,” Sam said, and Dean knew that tone. “You’re just back on your feet. Eat something, shower, shave, see if you head clears. Then we’ll talk.”
“There’s bacon!” Jack said.
Defeated by three pairs of pleading eyes, Dean ate, showered, shaved, and dressed, then walked into the library more determined than ever to find out what the hell happened.
Maggie, however, was standing there.
“Dean!” she squealed, running up to him, hesitating, and then lightly tapping him on the forearm. “It’s so good to have you back with us. I mean, not hearing anything for a month, and then, well, Castiel and Sam, and then, but now you’re back. Thank God.”
“You guys couldn’t find me for a month?”
“Not a word, not a single lead.” She shrugged. “Except the videos.”
“Videos?”
“Yeah, dozens of them. I only got to see one, but you looked so, well…” She stood there a moment awkwardly. “I mean, I don’t really know. Shouldn’t you be talking to Sam and Castiel about this?”
“Maggie,” Sam said quietly, Castiel standing at his side. “We got this.”
“We do?” Dean asked.
“Yeah,” Sam said. “And we’d better start with the Impala.”
“Baby?”
“The car is fine,” Castiel said. “But it’s been through a lot.”
They turned then, passing through a few hunters who shot them uncertain looks, and made their way into the garage.
“Oh no, Baby,” Dean groaned, looking over the mud-and-who-knows-what-splatted Impala. Leaves and grass were stuffed into the seams, the antenna was bent back, and a headlight was busted. He rushed to her, looking her over in detail, but that proved to be the worst of it.
When he turned to the others, Cass had taken off his trench and rolled up his sleeves, and Sam had gotten out the hose and bucket. Once all three of them were taking off the first layer of gunk, Sam began.
“When we got to the mansion, Cass could sense great power, so we didn’t storm in. We spent two days watching them, but we didn’t learn anything but that they got their groceries delivered and one of them was really into the roses growing in the front yard.
“Finally, we decided to send someone to the front door with a grocery delivery who would explain the order was a mistake. We set you up with a couple bags, you went up by yourself, and then you went inside instead of staying on the porch.”
“We waited ten minutes,” Cass said, taking over while he scrubbed at the read window. “And we were about to go in after you, when we got the first video.”
“You were, uh, naked. They’d surrounded you with candles. The video was only a few seconds.”
“We tried storm the mansion then,” Cass said, taking the hose from Sam and spraying at the crusted wheel in front of him. “But they had erected angel warding, and Sam couldn’t break in. Jack . . .” Cass looked over at Sam.
“What?” Dean demanded.
“Jack fainted,” Sam said. “We couldn’t wake him up.”
“He was too sensitive to the magic the coven was sending out,” Castiel said. “They may have been targeting him. We couldn’t be sure.”
“We had to retreat,” Sam said, soaping up the driver’s side window. “Jack didn’t recover until we were almost back at the bunker, so we left him here and came back for you.”
“They kept sending videos to our phones,” Cass said, scrubbing at the grille. “Every few hours.”
Dean took the hose to the back window and trunk. They’d gotten most of the gunk and mud off. He went back in with the sponge.
“They never touched you, not on the videos, and from what could tell, not at all,” Sam said.
“It was obvious they were preparing you for a ritual.”
“Like a sacrifice, right?” Dean asked.
“We weren’t sure,” Castiel said. “None of the runes they were using was about your death.”
Dean shut off the water. “No, it was sex. You think I can’t tell that? You think I can’t feel my own body?” He threw down the hose. “Now, tell me. What did those bitches do to me?”
“They did nothing, Dean,” Castiel said. “They never touched you.”
“Then what? Who did?”
Castiel raised his chin. “I did. I touched you to save your life.”