21. Dress Up

Castiel wakes to a stomach ache. He yawns widely and stretches. The little jabbing pains in his gut are bothersome, but they don’t hurt as badly as they did a week ago. He arches, his back bowing off the floor before rolling onto his stomach.

(All rested up?) Dean’s thoughts brush against his, light and gentle and pulsing with warmth.

He stretches his arms out in front of him, his tail curling back and up until the tip almost touches the middle of his back. (I believe so.) Castiel stifles another yawn and his tail smacks the floor once as he pushes up and slides through the water to stretch his fans, his adipose fins rippling pleasantly. (Did I miss anything important?)

(Not particularly. I’d give you details, but –) Dean shrugs and waves one hand dismissively. Castiel huffs. He knows what he means, but he still doesn’t like being left out.

Castiel settles by the glass-wall closest to Dean. He’s laying stretched out on his bed, legs bent and one knee crossed over the other. One of his shiny magazines is propped open across his lap and Castiel thinks the angle the pillow is holding his head up must be uncomfortable.

Dean grins at him and flips another page. (Sam and Jess are getting supper. We’ve got about another fifteen minutes or so before they get back.)

His side-fans twitch and Castiel smoothes a hand over his adipose fins. (Are you suggesting that we ‘spend our time wisely’ again?)

Dean laughs and goes to the next page. (I might be. Or I might be telling you how long until they get back just to make conversation. I’m not always thinking pervy thoughts, Cas.)

(I’m aware.) Castiel rolls his fins between his fingers and he glances from Dean to the raised bars.

(You want to come outta there?)

Castiel shrugs. He likes being in the water, but he likes being with Dean too. The ache pulses low in his stomach again and he shifts, leaning his shoulder against the glass. (Maybe, but… Dean, I need the bucket.)

Dean blinks at him a couple times, confusion pulling at his thoughts for a moment before clarity flares brightly. He sits up quickly and tosses his magazine aside. (Yeah, sure! Been a while, hasn’t it?)

(I’m not sure.) Castiel follows Dean along the edge of the tank as he gets the bucket and takes it to the platform to hand over the wall. (Will you turn your back or wait outside?)

(Uh, I think I’ll wait outside. It’s kinda weird to be in the same room as someone while they’re taking a shit, sorry.) Dean shrugs and heads for the door. (Just give me a shout when you’re done. Oh, d’you want to shave? You’ve got quite the scruff going and Lilith will probably hate it.)

Castiel rubs at his cheek and grimaces at the drag of thick stubble against his fingertips. (I suppose. I don’t want to give her any reasons to be mad at me.)

Dean detours to the drawers and pulls out his bathroom kit, tossing it on the bed. (I’ll go get a bowl of water and a towel. It’ll just be a few minutes because I’ll have to run downstairs to get it.)

He drags the bucket down to the bottom of small-sea. (You’ll be quick?)

(Fast as I can.) Dean winks and then he’s out the door, leaving Castiel alone in the room.

It’s weird to empty straight into the bucket again, but at least this time he doesn’t smell blood in the water. When done, Castiel takes the bucket up to the opening in the bars. While clearing his lungs, he empties the bucket of all but a few finger widths of water. He hangs his arms over the edge of the glass-wall and it digs into his underarms while he holds the bucket, waiting for Dean to come back.

He reaches for Dean’s mind, his touch sliding through the warmth that permeates the kin-connection and it makes Castiel’s skin tingle at the realization that it is still there, despite how long he slept. (How far are you?)

(Just coming back up the stairs. It’s a little harder to run with a bowl of water without spilling it.)

(Why couldn’t you just put water from small-sea in the bucket and use that instead?) Castiel thumps the hard edge of the bucket against the glass for emphasis. (There are towels in here too.)

Dean falls silent for a moment and embarrassment flares bright along the edges of his mind. (Didn’t even occur to me. Geeze, Cas, gorgeous and smart. What did I ever do to deserve you?)

Castiel scrunches his nose, frowning at the wall. (I don’t understand the question.)

He hears Dean’s laugh through the kin-connection and through the door moments before it beeps. (Nevermind. Did you want to try shaving yourself? I can hold the mirror and make –)

(I used to shave without a mirror and with a dagger. I’m fairly certain I can shave my own face with a tiny razor.) Castiel frowns down at Dean as he puts the bowl on the edge of the platform and takes the bucket. His arms ache slightly and he flexes his fingers to get the blood flow back into them. (You can observe if you’d like.)

(Yeah, I’m definitely going to watch. I’ll have pieces of Kleenex ready.) Dean’s thoughts are thrumming with amusement and Castiel raises an eyebrow, confused because he has no idea what Dean finds humorous. (You’ll probably cut yourself. Razor blades are pretty different from a dagger.)

Castiel’s tail lashes back and forth, smacking the glass. (I’m an adult, Dean. I can care for myself.)

Dean steps up onto the platform and crosses his arms on the edge of the small-sea. He has a smirk quirking his lips and Castiel draws back to give Dean the space to put his arms. (Oh, my bad. All the purring you were doing when I was shaving you before was just an accident, huh? I guess you didn’t like it at all?)

He huffs and presses his lips together in a thin line. (I didn’t say that.)

(Didn’t you?) Dean is still grinning and his amusement keeps spiraling through the kin-connection.

(I don’t understand what you’re finding so amusing.) Castiel flares his fans unhappily. He doesn’t like being confused and teased like this. (I didn’t say that I didn’t like it when you helped me. I very much enjoy when you touch me. I am merely stating that I am fully capable of shaving myself.)

The smirk softens into a smile and Dean reaches out to tap Castiel on the nose. (It’s okay, Cas. I just think you’re being adorable.)

Castiel draws out of reach, eyeing Dean warily. (I’m not – You’re being weird.)

(I’m happy, Cas. I’m just really happy.) Dean shrugs and tilts his head, his joy surging through the kin-connection. (Now are you gonna stay over there or are you gonna come over here and kiss me?)

He narrows his eyes at Dean, suspicious. (What are you happy about?)

(Lots of things. Our plan, for one. It’s missing a few parts, but we’ve got a major piece of it decided. And –) He drops his gaze, watching the ripples his fingers make as he drags them across the surface of the water. (And you. I’m happy coz’ of you. Now shut up and get over here.)

Castiel’s fans flare in surprise. The warmth from Dean is still rather weak in the kin-connection, but Castiel hadn’t thought to associate it with the cheerfulness that pulses loudly between them. It’s a pleasant revelation. He slides forward slowly until he’s within reach, but Dean doesn’t make any move to touch him. Instead, he keeps dragging his hand through the water. Castiel draws closer until he’s pressed against the glass directly in front of him.

Dean’s arms move from the glass wall, making room for Castiel to pull himself up. Dean loops one arm around his shoulders and Castiel flattens his back-fans so they don’t get in the way. Castiel leans into the kiss and his adipose fans ripple at the soft touch. He pulls away only to press forward again, tilting his head to change it. The kisses become open mouthed and it doesn’t take too long before Dean is nipping at Castiel’s lips.

Dean licks his way into his mouth and Castiel is quickly losing himself in Dean’s taste. He curls his fingers in the short bristles of Dean’s hair and sucks gently at his tongue. Dean practically growls into the kiss and the sound sends shivers down Castiel’s spine, making his adipose fins ripple wildly.

(Cas, you need to get out of this tank right now.) Dean gets his hands under Castiel’s arms and tries to lift him without breaking the kiss. (Like, right the fuck now.)

Castiel’s tail thrashes, hitting the wall hard enough that Dean jerks back in surprise. It’s easier to get out of small-sea when they’re not kissing. Dean wraps an arm around Castiel’s waist while his tail is still hooked over the edge of the wall and takes a step back.

(Dean, watch out for the edge of the platform.)

(Yeah, yeah, I got it. Don’t worry.) Dean fixes his mouth to the curve of Castiel’s jaw below his side-fan. (You should – yeah, you should shave first. Don’t wanna get any –) His tongue teases over the scales lining his gills. (– Don’t wanna get any stubble burn.)

Castiel’s twitches his tail over the wall and immediately wraps it around Dean’s waist. (You are very enthusiastic.)

Dean slowly steps down from the platform backwards and promptly sits on Sam and Jess’s bed. He presses another kiss to the mark on Castiel’s neck. (I’m a man in his prime, Cas, and I’ve been wanting to touch you for weeks. Now that I’m allowed to, and we’re alone, you can bet your baby blues that I’m going to touch you as much as I can.)

His fans flare wide with a sudden surge of possession. Castiel’s hands start to tremble and he curls his fingers tightly in the back of Dean’s shirt. He gasps quietly when Dean closes his mouth over the mark and presses his teeth against Castiel’s skin. (I’m not one for bite-play, but I kinda wanna pay you back for this morning.)

The warmth in Castiel’s chest boils outward into his limbs, pooling in his gut and making it hard for Castiel to breathe. Every breath is a short, sharp burst and his tail curls tighter around Dean. He would very much like to have a mark from Dean, something to show to his family if he ever gets home. His chest hitches when Dean licks wetly at the red spot on his neck.

(Maybe another time. Lilith will shit a brick if I do anything like that right now.) Dean’s fingers don’t hold still. They keep pressing up and down Castiel’s back, or tracing the blue lines of colour on his sides. Every touch pulls a different sound from Castiel.

He whines and leans out of reach of Dean’s mouth. He hates having to do that, but it’s the only way he can think. It’s impossible to have any kind of thought while Dean’s lips are on his skin. (Dean – Sam will be back soon.)

(It won’t be the first time he’s walked in on me with someone.) He laughs and curls forward, pressing his tongue to Castiel’s chest. (Hell, it won’t even be the first time he’s walked in on me with someone in his bed. S’kinda what happens when you grow up in motel rooms.)

(But Dean –) Castiel hisses when Dean’s mouths over his nipple and he loses his trail of thought for however long Dean stays there.

It’s when Dean moves up to his collarbone, tasting along the length of it before dipping down towards his other nipple, that Castiel  has a brief moment of clarity. He pushes Dean back sharply by his shoulders and gives him a stern look. (Sam may have seen you like this before, but I don’t want anyone to see you like that again. Not while I’m here.)

Dean blinks at him, surprise curling through the kin-connection in wide waves.  Castiel has to fight to keep from being distracted by Dean’s kiss-swollen lips made shiny with saliva. It makes Castiel want to taste him again. He’s not even aware that his hand moves until one of his fingers is tracing the plump curve of Dean’s bottom lip.

The warmth Dean shares in the kin-connection swells slightly and he smiles, his tongue darting out to wet his fingertip. (First you cover up all of Pam’s marks. Then you bite me. Now you don’t want anyone to see me when I’m being sexy. You’re pretty possessive there, ain’t’cha Cas?)

He hisses, baring his teeth. Castiel presses his finger against Dean’s tongue and his fans snap open, wide and possessive when Dean sucks his finger in, the webbing between his fingers pressing against the side of his mouth. He swallows sharply at the wet heat surrounding his finger and the way Dean’s tongue traces the seam where finger and webbing meet.

Dean lets go with a slick sound and Castiel suddenly remembers to breathe. The edges of the kin-connection vibrate with a teasing tone and Dean leans back on his hands. Castiel immediately misses having his warm palms pressed against his skin. (You’re pretty cute when you’re being selfish.)

Castiel  narrows his fans, pressing them flat against the sides of his head and his back. He looks away, frowning at the many pillows clustered at the top of the bed. (I shouldn’t be. It’s shameful. A warrior shouldn’t covet anything.)

(A soldier should be free of desires, huh? Yeah, sounds familiar.) Dean tilts his head to one side, sighing. Any arousal that was sliding through the kin-connection is starting to abate. (Dad used to say that a lot whenever Sammy or I would get depressed when the other kids got more stuff than we ever did for Christmas or birthdays.)

(What are those?) Castiel looks up, almost shyly, and Dean looks mildly surprised.

(Christmas I can understand, but don’t fin-kin at least celebrate birthdays?)

He shakes his head. (We don’t keep track of time the way humans do. We mark seasons by the flow of the currents and the migration of the sea-giants, or schools of fish.)

(So you don’t know how old you are?)

Castiel shakes his head, shrugging one shoulder. (Not by your standards. The currents should be changing soon and when they do, it’ll be my fifty-sixth season.)

Dean stares at him for a few moments before shifting so he can run a hand through his hair. (Jesus, that sounds old. But how many seasons are there in a year?)

He frowns and his adipose fins flutter as he thinks. Castiel leans forward, curling and tucking himself against Dean’s chest. His thoughts run over what he knows about humans and their concepts of time. He knows that one rotation of the sentry is about seven days. Seven days is a week and four weeks is a month. Which means… He does the addition and the multiplication several times to make sure he’s right.

(There are roughly two seasons per one human year. I’m almost twenty-eight years old, by your standards.) Satisfied with his conclusion, Castiel turns his head and presses his nose under Dean’s jaw. It’s one of his favourite things to do. This is the only spot on Dean that isn’t covered with his clothes where his scent is the strongest.

Dean tilts his head, giving Castiel more room. He laughs whenever Castiel rubs his cheek and his stubble against the thin skin of his neck. (So you’re just a little younger than me. I turned twenty-eight a few months ago. Sam is gonna be twenty-four in a couple weeks. Jess is twenty-five.)

Castiel hums and licks lightly at the soft skin underneath Dean’s jaw. (Does age matter that much to you?)

(No. I was just curious.) Dean work their way into his hair again, fingers massaging into his scalp. (I like learning about you.)

He purrs at the touch and pushes his hands under Dean’s shirt, warming his hands with the heat of his skin. The pulsing warmth in the kin-connection heats him from the inside and the rumble in Castiel’s chest grows louder. He spreads one hand over Dean’s stomach and his thumb brushes against the little pit that Dean calls a ‘belly button’.

(Me too. I like learning about you –) He licks at the mark left on the hard center of Dean’s throat. (– and humans. I like finding out our differences and our similarities.) Castiel presses a fingertip into his belly button and Dean squirms, a small laugh vibrating against Castiel’s tongue.

He continues his exploration of Dean’s neck and along the collar of his shirt. Dean is very compliant, tilting his head to give as much room as he can wherever Castiel’s lips and tongue travel. He stretches out his torso, baring his stomach and chest to the searching touch of his fingers. Castiel  already knows most of Dean’s body from this morning and he’s content to put his new knowledge to work.

Every laugh when he touches the ticklish spots, or breathy sigh when he touches the places that make him twitch, makes Castiel smile against Dean’s collarbone. His hands are smoothing over the muscles of Dean’s back when someone knocks at the door. He flares his fans and grunts unhappily. Castiel may not be aroused at the moment, but he does not want to stop what he is doing.

Whoever is at the door knocks again. Castiel knows it can’t be Lilith, or Alistair, or Gordon. None of them would have the consideration to announce their presence before entering the room. Dean starts to sit up again and Castiel pushes him back. (I’m not done.)

(Cas, someone is at the door.)

(Then make them go away.) He tugs at Dean’s collar, revealing the edge of the square bandage Jess covered the bite mark with. (They can come back when we’re done.)

Dean’s amusement (And when, exactly, will we be done?)

(Once I am satisfied.) Castiel licks at the strange clear fake-skin that holds the edges of the bandage down over Dean’s skin.  He wants to see the mark and check on how it is healing. Since he was the one to leave it, he should be the one to care for it.

The door beeps and Castiel glances over his shoulder. It doesn’t more than a crack. “Hey! You guys decent?” The voice belongs to Jess and Castiel frowns. He can’t send her away, especially if Sam is with her. Dean holds them both in such high regard. He allows the kin-connection to fill with all his disappointment as he slides from Dean’s lap to curl next to him on the bed.

Dean simply grins at him. “Yeah, Jess. We’re good.” He leans in for one more quick kiss that Castiel wants to chase after.

“Oh good, you’re out of the tank!” Jess smiles at them as she enters the room.

It is a small, strained expression and Castiel is immediately on his guard. The door falls shut behind her and the sinking feeling in Castiel’s chest grows. Sam isn’t with her and she isn’t carrying any food. The same worry flows through the kin-connection from Dean and they share a quick look before Dean gets up from the bed.

Dean tries to sound and look casual as he smiles back at her. “Where’s Sam?”

Her smiles falls away and her expression turns hard. “Getting changed..”

Castiel tilts his head in confusion. “Why?”

Jess’s lips curl and she crosses her arms tightly over her chest. “Lilith has invited us all to have dinner in her dining room and she wants us to look presentable. You’ve got twenty minutes to clean up and put on something nice to wear.”

 She glares hatefully at a space on the wall for a moments before sighing, her shoulders sagging. Jess looks very tired and she rubs at her forehead. “She wants Castiel shaved and she’s got someone who’s going to do his hair when you get him to her room.”

Dean’s hands curl into fists and tremble. “And what are they going to do?”

Jess shrugs. “Hell if I know. We were stopped on our way to the cafeteria and taken to her –” She stalls and her nose crinkles. “I dunno what else to call it other than her ‘dressing room’. They’ve got what looks like a salon set up in one corner. It’s ridiculous. I think she has her own personal stylist on board and they’re going to wash Castiel’s hair, maybe cut it. I really don’t know.”

Castiel reaches up and runs a hand through his hair. He doesn’t want to cut it. It’s at a decent length and it doesn’t need to be cut for several more sentry rotations. It’s only when the strands at the very front can be pulled straight to reach his eyes does he actually cut it.

Dean is practically vibrating with the anger storming through the kin-connection. “That’s bullshit. Cas looks fine. He doesn’t need any –”

“I know, Dean. Trust me, I know.” Jess sighs again and starts fidgeting with the braid hanging over her shoulder. “I should go get ready now. Wear your nicest clothes, Dean.”

“I’m didn’t exactly pack for fancy dinner parties. I packed for working on engines and shit.” Dean leaves Castiel to stomp across the room and pull open the drawers at the end of his bed. “I’ve got flannels, t-shirts, jeans. I don’t have any suits or dress clothes.”

Jess follows and Castiel wants to too. But the last time he had mentioned crawling across the floor, Dean had been very adamant that he not do that, stressing that that the floor was dirty. And if he goes to Lilith’s room with his scales and adipose covered in dirt, Lilith would probably not be very happy.

Castiel watches quietly from across the room as Jess goes through Dean’s clothes. She keeps making little disapproving noises and lecturing Dean about something she calls his ‘wardrobe’. Dean’s exasperation swirls through the kin-connection and he’s practically glaring at her, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Well these are the nicest things you have here. Wear them. I’ll try explaining it to Lilith or something if she starts to freak out.” Jess shoves some clothes into Dean’s arms. “I’ll see you there. Bye Castiel!” He waves when she does, but she pauses in the doorway. “Oh, by the way, the flatbed is out here.”

Dean is already starting to remove his shirts. His top shirt is already on the floor and he lowers the one he calls a t-shirt. He follows her out into the hall and comes back in with the trolley. When the door shuts again, Dean locks it. He grabs his bathroom kit and leaves the trolley in front of small-sea. Dean brings a chair from in front of the computers and sits on it at the end of the bed.

(Come sit over here on the edge, Cas. We’ve got a time crunch, so I’m going to do it.)

Castiel drags himself to the spot Dean indicated, his scales catching on the sheets slightly. His tail hangs over the edge and he sits with his hands in his lap, watching as Dean takes out the cylinder of foam and a razor. Dean pulls the chair up close, his knees framing Castiel’s tail. It reminds him of how Dean had been kneeling over him this morning and his fans rustling at the sharp bolt of heat that races over his skin and scales at the thought.

He shakes his head. Now is not the time to think like that. Especially when they’re getting ready to go visit Lilith. Castiel does not have fond memories of her rooms and he is not looking forward to going back.

(It’s just dinner, Cas. If we’re careful and not do anything to piss her off, we shouldn’t have any trouble.) Dean tries to give him a reassuring smile, but his thoughts are shaking with worry too.

The foam is cold on his skin, but Dean’s fingers are warm beneath and he doesn’t rush with spreading it over Castiel’s stubble. He leans into the touch and rolls his lips together when Dean’s thumbs spread the foam over and under his mouth. Dean wipes his hands on the towel and pulls out his phone.

“Smile!” Dean holds the phone up like he’s going to take a picture.

Castiel tilts his head, confusion pinching his brow. Is smiling a prerequisite for taking a picture? He’s never been told to smile for one before and many have been taken of him already. Dean grins and the phone makes a clicking noise.

(That’ll do just fine.)

(Why did you take my picture?) He wants to see what he looks with the foam on his face. Castiel reaches for the phone and Dean turns it with the picture on the screen.  (I look ridiculous. Why would you want a picture of that?)

Dean shrugs and puts the phone away. (Memories, Cas. I know I’m not going to forget you, but sometimes what I see in my head isn’t enough. Sometimes I want to look at a picture to make sure I’m remembering them right.)

He rocks to one side, and pulls a brown shell from the back pocket of his pants. (This is a wallet. We keep money and cards and stuff in here. But a lot of people carry pictures of loved ones.) He takes out a worn out picture and holds it out. Castiel recognizes two of the four people in the picture, the woman with yellow hair and the child held in the arms of an adult male. He recognizes them as the two in the picture that Dean has hidden in the writing-book in the top drawer. But he doesn’t recognize the male, or the infant the woman is holding.

(This is my mom, dad, me and Sammy. It was taken in front of our house – that’s what that big thing in the background is.) Dean points accordingly as he talks. (Mom died a few days after this picture was taken.)

(She was very beautiful.) Castiel gives him the picture to put back in his wallet.

Dean smiles and nods, putting his wallet away. (Thanks. I only have two pictures of her and I was pretty young when she died, so sometimes I get worried that when I remember her I might have her face or her hair wrong. The pictures help keep the memory of her fresh.)

Castiel’s fans fold down, drooping. His chest feels tight and the warmth that fills it is making it hurt. It feels like something is lodged in his throat and it’s hard to swallow around it. He watches Dean’s hands while he gets the razor and gives him the bowl of water to hold.

Dean pauses, the razor raised. His concern spikes through the kin-connection, mixing with the worry about might happen in Lilith’s rooms that already lays stagnant between them. (Cas, what’s wrong?)

He can feel his lips start to tremble and Castiel chews lightly on his bottom lip to hide it, not meeting Dean’s confused stare. His eyes are stinging and Castiel hates that he feels like he’s going to cry. (I won’t have any pictures. I won’t have anything.)

(Oh. Dude, I’m sorry…) Dean’s hands drop into his lap. Understanding and sympathy replaces the worry in the kin-connection. (But you’re pretty good with your memories though, aren’t you? You guys memorize all sorts of songs. It’s like you’ve got a photographic memory or something, don’t you?)

(It won’t be the same.) Castiel shakes his head and sighs before he sits up straight. (We don’t have much time left and we shouldn’t make Lilith wait.)

Dean still stares at him for several moments before he moves. His thoughts have turned contemplative and it’s only his emotions that make it to the kin-connection. What he’s actually thinking about is hidden behind what few walls he has left around his mind. He looks distracted while quickly scraping the foam and stubble away with the razor. It bothers Castiel and it’s a decent diversion from the tight unhappiness that sours the warmth in his chest.

The moment he’s done, Dean hands Castiel a towel. (Wipe up while I change. We’re going to be cutting it close.)

Castiel still manages to miss some spots after wiping his face. Once he’s changed Dean w into a pair of dark jeans, a white sleeveless shirt, and a dark blue top shirt that he tucks into his pants and buttons up to his throat. It makes him look different and Castiel isn’t sure if he likes it or not. He still considers clothing to be a very weird concept.

Dean empties the bucket into the handless-bucket stored under the ledge.   He fills it with water and leaves it next to the trolley. (Alright, let’s get this show on the road.)

He is still thinking about what Dean is thinking behind the walls as Dean helps transfer him to the trolley. Castiel curls his tail around the bucket to hold it in place and he hugs one of the bars to steady himself. Dean checks to make sure that none of Castiel’s fins or fans will get in the way of the wheels. When satisfied, he turns them toward the door.

Both of them are surprised to find Alistair waiting for them. Castiel hisses and one hand goes to his adipose fin where the small section had been cut out. Dean narrows his eyes, touching the top of Castiel’s head gently.

“What do you want?”

Alistair holds up a rectangular white card and he gestures toward the elevator. “I’m to escort you to your appointment.”

A growl rumbles in Castiel’s chest and he watches Alistair closely as they get onto the moving platform. When they reach the deck and the scent of the sea surrounds them, Castiel closes his eyes and turns his back to the railings. Dean’s fingers run through his hair again. He doesn’t want to see the waters he’s not allowed to swim in.

(I’m sorry, Cas. If I could –)

(It’s fine, Dean. Please get us inside quickly.) He slides his hand up the bar until he reaches the horizontal cross piece and along that to where Dean’s hand rests. Castiel covers his hand and squeezes over his fingers. (We need to cut the kin-connection before we reach Lilith’s rooms.)

Irritation flashes sharply along the edges of Dean’s mind in bright bursts. (Yeah, yeah. I got it. But you make it again as soon as we’re nowhere near her, you got it?)

(Of course, Dean.) Castiel sends a surge of warmth through the kin-connection and he gets a small pulse of it in return before he severs the link.

Dean sighs and twists his fingers in Castiel’s hair once before taking his hand back. Castiel ruffles his back-fans and leans heavily against the bar. The silence in his head feels greater, more all encompassing and profound without Dean and his warmth there. It didn’t feel like this before he knew how Dean feels – even if only slightly – for him.

“Problems, Winchester?” Alistair’s snide voice makes Castiel bristle and his side-fans flare at the sound.

“Just you.” Dean responds. He sounds like he’s answering with his teeth clenched.

Castiel thinks he understands what they just said, but he’s not entirely sure. The words sound familiar, but the meanings are hazy. Dean’s hand returns to his hair, stroking gently.

“You seem awfully touchy-feely today. Missing your link?”

“None of your business. Keep your broken beak out of it, fucknut.”

Alistair laughs, a nasally sound that grates on Castiel’s nerves. The doors beep and Castiel decides to just keep his eyes shut. He leans back into Dean’s hand and sighs. Dean’s hand has to leave every so often, whenever the trolley starts to veer off to one side. Castiel can feel it when it does. He knows when they’ve arrived as soon as the scents change. They’re stronger, more pungent and they tickle his noise worse than the smell of Lilith.

Castiel sneezes and looks up to glare when Dean snorts. It sounded far too much like an amused snort for his liking. Dean grins down at him and shrugs. “Sorry, that was kinda cute.”

“No cute.” He narrows his eyes, side-fans flaring. Castiel is a warrior. He is not cute. Dean laughs again and Castiel ducks out of reach of his hand when he reaches to ruffle his hair.

Someone clears their throat and Castiel looks over sharply. Lilith is standing in a doorway, her arms crossed. She’s wearing a long blue dress today and her hair falls in curls around her shoulders. The pendant is around her neck again and Castiel holds back a growl. There is another woman standing behind Lilith and the way she looks at him is unnerving. She has a small almost-there smile and looks like she knows something that no one else does, but her expression is still curiously blank.

“So, that’s the mermaid.” She says it blandly and Dean’s fingers tighten in his hair.

“You don’t seem all that surprised.” Dean speaks softly and Castiel wishes that he could understand him.

“I’m not.” She shrugs and moves around Lilith, crossing the room to a chair mounted on a single stand.

There is a segmented chair sitting before a ledge with a sink, like in the bathroom. But they are not in a bathroom. And this sink is different. It has a weird dip in the front. One wall of the room is covered in doors and the opposite wall, the side with the door where Lilith is still standing, has another ledge with a mirror surrounded by light bulbs to the left of the door. On the right is where the sink-shelf and the chairs are. There is another full length mirror on the short wall in front of the single-stand chair.

Dean moves and he crouches next to the trolley. “And who are you?”

Lilith finally steps into the room, but she settles onto the ottoman in front of the mirror-shelf. “This is Eve. She’s my stylist. I take her everywhere.”

Dean touches Castiel’s arm to get his attention and then points at the new woman. “Eve.”

Castiel nods, pleased to at least know her name. She has straight yellow hair, but it’s different from Lilith’s and different from Jess’s. Eve is setting out bottles next to the sink.

“This is Dean. And my mermaid, Castiel.” Lilith gestures without looking. She faces the mirror and starts touching her face.

Eve looks up once, the same bland look on her face. Castiel doesn’t like her. “Pleasure. Shall we begin?”

Dean’s fingers tighten over Castiel’s arm. “Start what?”

“That’s none of your concern, Dean.” Lilith starts sorting through the little tubes and boxes on the ledge before her. “In fact, you can wait outside. Alistair, take Dean away.”

Those are words Castiel recognizes and they’re his least favourite. His fans flare and he grabs Dean’s arm with one hand and fisting his shirt over his back with the other. “No! Dean stay. Please, Dean stay!”

Lilith looks over her shoulder and narrows her eyes at them. What few items she has in her hands, she puts down as she stands. Castiel lets go of Dean and immediately flattens and narrows his fans in submission – as much as he hates acting like this for her – as Lilith crosses the room to kneel at the end of the trolley.

She points at Castiel then at Dean. “Castiel. Dean. Kin-connection. Yes? No?”

Castiel shakes his head and ducks lower than her. “No kin-connection Dean.” It’s refreshingly easy to lie without having the kin-connection for falsehoods to be felt.

“We don’t have the kin-connection. Not since you shocked him sick.” Dean’s expression goes hard and unhappy. He looks exactly like how Castiel would expect him to look if they had spent the day together without being able to talk. “He had it with Sam for a little bit this morning, but that’s it. Do you have any idea how hard it is to talk to someone when neither of you speak the same language?”

Lilith looks between them suspiciously before standing. “Fine. Dean, you can stay. Someone needs to lift Castiel anyway.” She gestures toward Eve. “Take him to the sink.”

Dean stands and Castiel looks up at him curiously. He holds onto the bar as Dean pushes the trolley across the room. Eve reaches for the bucket and Castiel withdraws his tail quickly, folding it to his chest. He doesn’t trust other people touching him, not when Alistair keeps taking pieces of him.

“He’s going to freak out the moment Eve tries to wash his hair.” Dean speaks somewhere behind Castiel, but he’s too busy watching what Eve does to check to see who Dean is talking to. “Someone needs to tell him what she’s going to do.”

“Are you suggesting that I should let you have your silly little link again?” Lilith almost sounds amused and that makes Castiel look at her. Just one little glance and then he’s looking back at Eve. Lilith is sitting back at the mirror-shelf, but she is facing them.

There’s a frustrated sigh behind him and Dean’s hand is back on . “Me, you, anyone just so Cas doesn’t have a panic attack when a stranger starts touching him. He doesn’t like baring his throat either and he’s going to have to do that to tilt his head into the sink. You may have cut his claws, but he still has his teeth and he might bite Eve – no offence – to protect himself.”

“Then this will be the perfect opportunity to train him out of biting.”

That’s another word Castiel knows. He nearly unseats himself with how quickly he looks at Lilith. She has the pendant between her fingers again, rolling it suggestively. Castiel hisses and hunches his shoulders, hugging his tail tightly. Anxiety burns sharply in his chest and he can feel phantom bolts of pain singing down his spine and through his head.

Lilith smiles brightly. “Look at that! I might not even have to do anything. Why don’t you demonstrate for him what he’s going to have to do?”

Dean makes another frustrated noise and then he’s kneeling in front of Castiel again, placing himself between him and Lilith. He snaps his fingers and points to himself and Castiel directs his attention to him the moment she drops the pendant. Dean points at Castiel, then at his own eyes before point at his chest.

Castiel nods. “See Dean.”

“Right. You keep your eyes on me.” Dean makes the gesture again and Castiel watches him closely as he stands and sits in the segmented chair.

He leans back until his neck rests in the dip at the front. Eve looks at him, blankly again before putting a coloured sheet over Dean’s chest. She stands next to him and puts her hand in the sinks. Water starts running and Castiel tries to sit up higher to see what she’s doing. The water turns off and Dean sits up, pulling the sheet off and giving it back to Eve.

“See, Cas? Not so bad, right?” Dean smiles gently and one of the arches on either side of the chair. “It’s just like the shower.”

“Shower.” Castiel looks at the sink and the bottles. He points. “Shampoo?”

Dean grins and nods. “Right!”

Castiel points from the shampoo and points at his own hair, nodding. He understands. Jess had said that they were going to want to wash his hair and it’s clear enough that his is how they’re going to do it. It’s not exactly how he wants to do it, but Lilith has the pendant and the last time she used it he lost a few days.

“Okay. Shower.” Castiel nods again, holding his arms out for Dean to pick him up.

Dean is very careful with putting him in the chair, making sure his back-fans don’t get caught on anything. He arranges Castiel’s tail to curl out of the way and underneath it. His hands are gentle on Castiel’s shoulders as he leans him back and makes sure that his neck is resting properly in the sink. He steps out of the way and Eve covers Castiel’s torso with the sheet. His adipose fins start rippling nervously.

He stands on the side of the chair opposite Eve and Dean leans over Castiel, smiling reassuringly. “I’m going to stay right here. Nothing bad is going to happen, okay?”

“Okay.” Castiel shifts his hand out from under the sheet and grips Dean’s wrist. Dean’s smile softens and he shifts his arm out to hold Castiel’s hand instead.

Eve leans over and starts the water. Castiel bites his lip and closes his eyes, focusing on not thinking about someone else touching him. A mantra circles in his head, reminding him that Dean is right there and he isn’t going to let anyone hurt him. He recognizes the touch of Dean’s fingers on the top spines of his head-fan and he lets Dean guide them to flatten, thin, and lower.

“Gotta keep those outta the way.” Dean murmurs and Castiel hums.

The fingers that work through his hair are quick and they feel very different from Dean’s. It’s not a bad touch and he doesn’t hate it like he does when Lilith touches him. He tries to focus on something else, anything else to keep from having panic coil in his chest. Dean’s thumb keeps inscribing gentle circles over the back of Castiel’s hand and he focuses on that. The heat of Dean’s skin and the drag of the pad of his thumb.

It’s over much faster than he thought it would be. Dean helps him sit forward and takes the towel from Eve. She watches as Dean carefully rubs Castiel’s hair. That annoying, small smile is still fixed firmly on her face and she stands still next to the single-stand chair.

“Do you want me to cut it or just style it?” Eve looks at Lilith, one eyebrow raised.

Dean’s jaw clenches as he wipes up stray drops of water down the back of Castiel’s neck. He doesn’t say anything, but Castiel can tell that he doesn’t like something that Eve just said. Castiel leans around Dean to see what Lilith is doing. She’s looking at them in the reflection of the mirror, applying a cylinder to her lips that makes them even more red than before. He doesn’t like the look she’s giving Dean’s back. It’s narrow-eyed and dangerous.

“Just style it. We don’t have enough time for anything else.”

Eve nods and points to the single-stand chair. “The mermaid needs to be moved there.”

Castiel doesn’t like being moved so much. It’s nice that he gets to be held by Dean in between, but it’s annoying that each moment isn’t very long and he’d very much prefer to stay wrapped in Dean’s arm. It’s a comfort, and Dean is warm. Curled with Dean is his favourite place to be on the boat, even more than being in water.

Small-sea is confining. He often has to fight off panic attacks about being stuck in such a small space. They’re one of the very few things he actively keeps from Dean. Castiel knows that Dean hates it when he ‘freaks out’. He doesn’t want Dean to worry about him any more than he already does.

Eve puts a clear jelly in her hands and stands behind Castiel. She runs her fingers through his hair several times. Castiel squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to sneeze at the scent of the jelly. Dean’s hand is resting gently on his wrist. Her fingers plucks at different strands and it feels like ages before she is done. He gasps in surprise when the chair suddenly turns and Dean curses, his hand leaving Castiel’s wrist.

“How’s that?”

Castiel stares at Lilith and she looks at him critically. “It will do. Get the number three box. I want him to match me. Does my dress match his pattern?”

“Perfectly.” Eve goes to the many doors on the other side of the room. She opens one and Castiel leans to see how it’s full of shelves and boxes and baskets.

Dean makes a small choking noise and the hand he has on Castiel’s shoulder tightens. Eve returns with one of the boxes. Castiel jerks back in the seat and hisses as she places the box in his lap. She glances at him briefly, but shows no outwardly reaction and it’s very unnerving.

“You’re putting more jewelry on him?” Dean is speaking through his teeth again, but Castiel is watching the chains Eve lifts from the box.

These chains are thicker than the ones Lilith put on him before and Castiel’s adipose fins ripple unhappily as she wraps it around his waist. This time the chain is silver and it only goes around him once. When she clips it, there is a length of it that lays coiled in his lap. She places two other chains, both much shorter, around his wrists – one on each. Dean’s fingers dig into his shoulder and Castiel tries not to wince.

Lilith is smiling and twisting the silver bangle she has around her wrist. “Doesn’t he look beautiful, Dean?”

“He was beautiful before you dressed him up like a Barbie doll.” Dean mutters and Lilith’s expression hardens.

“Careful what you say, Winchester.” She stands up, and soothes her dress down as she steps forward. “I locked you in your room once before, I can do it again. Now carry him to the dining room and don’t muss his hair.”

Castiel is getting very annoyed that he doesn’t know what anyone is saying. Random words are recognizable, but he can’t make any sense from them. Dean picks him up and Castiel wraps his arms around his shoulders, trying to keep the weight from his left arm again. He curls his tail up around Dean’s back to keep the end out of the way.

“Eve, you’re free for the rest of the evening.” Lilith waves her off as Eve puts the box away.

“Thank you, miss Lilith. Have a good dinner.” Eve still has that blank look on her face and Castiel wants to know what she knows. She can’t have that expression and not know something. It’s bothersome and he hates it.

Dean follows Lilith from the room into a hallway. This hallway is much more lavish than the one outside small-sea’s room. It’s walls are a different colours and there are carved details near the ceiling and the floor. Each door is carved like the ones on the room with the desk and the plush chairs.

They pass a set of extravagant double doors and Castiel thinks maybe that might be the room with the desk. The hall ends in another set of double doors, also intricately carved. Lilith stops with her hand on the door handles and turns to face them.

She taps her temple and smile softly. It’s a terrifying expression because it doesn’t reach her eyes. Her eyes are still hard and cruel and Castiel’s stomach twists. Lilith wants the kin-connection. He sets several walls between him and her and reaches for her mind. The smile stretches into a wide grin the moment he touches her thoughts.

(Hello, Castiel.) Her grin is shark-like and Castiel digs his fingers into Dean’s back as anxiety curls hard in his chest. (Tonight you’re going to learn table manners.)