Wᴇ ʜɪᴅᴇ ᴏᴜʀ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴs Uɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴜʀғᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅ ( closed )

[righteously]

WHO: Various!
WHERE: The Aerie
WHEN: July 2512 (November 2020)
WHAT: Consolidated Event Threads
NOTES OR WARNINGS: extreme violence, angst, adult language, potentially explicit content.

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[rehandle]

There is no out, you ignorant child. You've already given me the truth.

[ With both of them on their knees, one unwillingly and the other all too freely, Stephen's anger runs cold. This is worse than the betrayal. This, Castiel on hands and knees pleading for the life of one man over the cause he'd deemed so important as to risk it all for, is an insult beyond the rest.

It's a sign of stupidity. Worse, of a weak will. And he'd had such hopes...

His words are directed now at the magpie before him. Eyes burn cold. ]

You spat in the hand you willingly fed from for a cause you're ready to betray the instant your actions threaten somebody you care about personally. How many Kestrels and allies of Kestrels did you meet? How many did they meet? All those connections are waiting in your head, and you didn't even have the decency to hesitate.

[ They're not questions that need answers. He could have the answers in an instant if he wanted them. No, all told it's a knife through the coffin lid as he begins the act of burying the two of them alive.

Head tilting to focus on Dean, to speak to him now: ]

You put more thought into your last ditch attempt to save this man's life than he ever did into how his actions might impact yours or anybody else's. He chose his partner well. I'm afraid you did not.

[ Which, with one quick glance, is the Shrikes' cue to step in and pull Dean back up off his knees, begin to pull him out of the room. All at once he's entirely free of Stephen's hold - the Shrikes have him now, and Stephen Strange is done with this whole wretched thing. ]

[unwings]

[ stephen's right - there is no out. the second he entered the equation, whatever lie they were going to try selling was forfeit. it's why he didn't hesitate. no point to it. castiel's attention isn't on stephen, however, as he's berated for biting the hand that feeds, and lectured on those he's put in danger with his recklessness. instead, he's watching the shrikes drag dean to his feet, shuffling him towards the front door of the apartment.

a brief thought, a flicker of an idea, there and buried the next, because who knows how closely stephen's monitoring his thoughts. eyes follow the movement of dean's entourage, but castiel's keying into stephen's contempt fueled monologue, letting the words hit him like a slap, twisting up with guilt, shame, and anger in his gut.

dean makes it to the door, only a few steps past the threshold and into the hall outside, and it's time. cas musters up the most condescending look he can manage, then tilts his head up to meet stephen's eyes directly. ]

Why bother asking, [ cas takes a breath, and enunciates the last part clearly: ] you pompous, long-winded ass.

[ oh, that felt awesome. his eyes flash blue, and castiel's body goes completely limp, falling, prone dead-weight, to the floor.

at the threshold, the shrike directly behind dean jerks, stiffens, then immediately reaches for his sidearm. one shot into the space between dean's wrists to break the chain connecting the cuffs, and a hand shoves hard at his back, pushing him towards the open hall with a harsh whisper at his ear. ] Run.

[ turning back, cas-possessing-shrike gets only as far as leveling the gun on stephen, mind full up with murderous intent. ]

[righteously]

( If it weren't for the severity of this situation, if his heart weren't being plucked at by razor blades, the words that fall out of Castiel's mouth would have Dean stone cold stunning himself balls deep into the other side of infatuated. You pompous, long-winded ass. When he thinks back on this later, he's gonna wanna kiss the guy square on the mouth.

Damn, Cas. Talk dirty to him.

Unfortunately there isn't even time to be impressed. He barely has the capacity for audio processing right now.

The thing about it is...

Dean Winchester's a moron. In any universe, in any iteration, in any version, there are a few consistent traits. Shucking off all common sense and self-preservation is written in his damn DNA the same way the code for his eyes and his lips are. There's no reality where Dean listens and actually runs.

He won't even feel guilty for that later. Realistically it'd take about one second for Stephen's mind to power Dean down like a flicked off light switch.

So.

His splintering seconds of freedom are spent trying with everything in him to punch Douche Houdini in the face.

Oh yeah, when those shrikes are up again they're definitely gonna tase his ass unconscious. Sorry, Cas. Too late to rethink your choice in men, they're officially quarry buddies. )