Every Step I Took In Faith, Chapter One

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At first he thought it was a trick. But Bobby wouldn’t have fallen for that. He’d have checked every possible angle before bringing Dean to Sam, who was alone in a motel room in Illinois after having dismissed some random brunette he’d picked up at a coffee shop earlier that afternoon.

There was no trick.

No trick. It was Dean.

Dean.

He was back.

Sam had never figured out a way to get him back, despite his considerable efforts. But there he was, anyway.

With a friend.

Before too long, the whole story was spilled. Heaven had decided that Dean’s soul needed to be pulled out of Hell. So they sent an entire garrison of angels to get the job done. Castiel happened to be the angel who grabbed onto the soul of The Righteous Man, as Castiel referred to him, so he drug him up out of the Pit and restored his soul, along with making his body whole again.

It wasn’t easy to integrate the knowledge that angels were real, actual real live Angels Of The Lord…Sam had always believed in God, believed in the existence of angels as much as he knew for sure that the existence of demons was an immutable truth. If there was a Hell, there was a Heaven. If there were demons, there must be angels too. To Sam, that was just plain logic.

This angel, who at first had left Sam awed and cowering, had done what Sam had never managed to do: save his brother.

Then left him buried alive.

Sam was as happy as he ever thought he’d be, seeing Dean again, having him back, knowing he was (relatively speaking) safe and not injured.

Not physically injured, other than the scraped up knuckles he’d gotten from having to dig himself out of his own fucking grave.

So now he had his brother, out of Hell, and an angel tagging along to tell them all about how there were seals breaking and an apocalypse coming and they had a responsibility, they’d been chosen, whatever the hell else.

Despite all that, Sam burned.

It was almost a physical sensation, the heat he felt as a result of his anger. Having Dean back again surprisingly didn’t erase his unrelenting urge to get his revenge from Lilith for sending his brother to Hell in the first place, for smoking out in that little room before he’d had a chance to kill her for what she’d done.

And it didn’t help, honestly, having Castiel around. Obviously, Sam was grateful for the angel’s efforts in bringing Dean back, but what the fuck had taken Heaven so long to figure out Dean didn’t belong in Hell to start with? Sure, he’d made the deal, but Heaven was…well, it was Heaven. Any one of those jokers, including God (and where the fuck was He, anyway?) could have stopped all this long before it started. Why didn’t this Castiel step in earlier? Spare his brother the torture that Dean claimed (lied) he didn’t even remember? Did Dean really think Sam was going to fall for that bullshit? For some reason, though, he couldn’t bring himself to push the issue. Fuck, it was Hell, if Dean didn’t want to talk about it yet, wasn’t ready to have a ‘sharing and caring’ moment where he actually discussed his feelings in an honest way, then fine. He was entitled to a little denial, Sam figured.

So yeah, on orders from who knows where, this angel had returned his brother to Earth. But he’d also left him to claw his way out of a pine box underground and make his way back to Bobby, then to Sam, on his own. That didn’t really seem like the way an angel ought to be looking out for someone as important as he made Dean out to be in his talk about seals and wars and destiny. He should have been there, Christ, if he had the power to wrench Dean’s soul from the Pit, he could have at least let him land on his feet instead of flat on his back under six feet of dirt.

There wasn’t much Sam could do to see past how angry he still was, regardless of what had happened. He’d assumed getting Dean back would be enough, but he’d been so, so wrong about that. He was pissed about this angel who was supposed to be taking care of his brother but had left him alone when he was afraid and confused. If Dean was so fucking important to Heaven, why hadn’t he been taken care of better?

And his thirst for revenge on Lilith hadn’t been satiated in the least. If anything, it was worse now that he knew she was a part of this whole shit-show, the seal-breaking and the coming apocalypse and the enormous responsibility that had been heaped onto his and Dean’s shoulders.

The first chance he got, he cornered Castiel when they were alone.

“Save your Warrior of God bullshit, I want an explanation.”

Castiel was not easily intimidated. He was, however, intrigued and not averse to giving Sam what he asked for.

“For which event would you like an explanation, Sam?”

“I want to know why you left him alone!”, Sam exploded, raising his voice and grabbing the front of Castiel’s obnoxious coat. “He had to dig out of a damn grave and walk after he’d been in Hell for who the fuck knows how long!”

Castiel pushed Sam back about four feet with no more than a thought. “I know how long. Forty years.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”, Sam shouted back, undeterred by Castiel’s power for the moment.

“That’s how long he was in Hell. I know it wasn’t that long to you, but it was to Dean. He was in Hell for forty years. So if you’re asking who the fuck knows how long, the answer is,I know how long. But I’d prefer that you didn’t use such blasphemous language.”

“No one asked you what you preferred, asshole. Why did you leave him? Alone? Like that?”

“I attempted to speak with him very soon after he rose. However, I had not yet taken this vessel and he was unable to understand my true voice. It was physically painful for him to hear it. I did try one more time, shortly thereafter, but the results were unchanged, so I ceased my attempts until I could safely approach Dean without risking any harm coming to him from exposure to my true form or voice.” His tone was even, matter-of-fact, utterly devoid of emotion. As much at that pissed Sam off, he had to admit it was a reasonable explanation.

“All right”, Sam replied, “but you, any of you, could have gone to get him sooner, right? You could have gotten him out whenever you wanted.”

“We do as we are ordered. The host does not act of its own volition, Sam. We act upon instructions. I did not know your brother existed until my garrison was sent to retrieve him. And do not ask me to speak on behalf of those who are ranked above me, as I am unable to do so.”

“So you’re that lowly up there in the clouds? Just a foot soldier?”

“I do not understand what relevance clouds have to our conversation, but to answer your question, yes, I am, as you would say, a foot soldier. That does not change the fact that I am far, far more powerful than you are. Especially considering the blight left on your soul by Azazel. Please contain your anger before I am forced to contain it for you.”

Again, the voice was calm and even but there was more than just a hint of unfathomable power behind it. Getting his rage under control took some effort, but he wasn’t about to risk the wrath of this angel any more he would any other supernatural creature he’d come across in the past.

Shocked at his own words, Sam responded, “I apologize for being disrespectful. It’s just that I’m still so pissed about not getting a chance to take Lilith out when I had the chance. She looked like she was afraid of me for a second there, when she couldn’t kill me. Kept telling me to ‘stay back’ before she smoked out. It was almost like she knew something I didn’t, and it’s driving me crazy.”

“You are correct. She did know something you don’t. I will share it with you, there is even a chance I can help, but this is not the time. Your brother will return soon. As will I, when the time is right.”

With that, Sam was left alone and even more confused than he’d been when the conversation began.

The familiar rumble of the Impala approaching their room shook him into schooling his features, not wanting to alert Dean that anything strange had happened during his absence.

It worked, too. Dean didn’t seem to catch on that anything was different, and Sam kept up his mask of concerned younger brother as they continued to work cases with and without angelic assistance. They were both wearing masks now, hiding themselves from each other, and it felt so fucking wrong.

Not too long after that, though, as Dean was out at a local bar and not expected back until morning, Castiel appeared beside Sam, almost startling him out of his chair.

“Hello, Sam.”

Still wary and not in any mood for pleasantries, he got right down to business. “So what it is exactly that I don’t know? And how can you help? I assume this is about Lilith.”

“It is, but it is also about you. The powers you have as a result of Azazel’s intervention have been dormant, but they are not, as you believed, gone. This is the reason Lilith’s attempt to kill you along with your brother was not successful. She was as surprised as you were, which was the reason for her becoming afraid and leaving her host body. You may want to know that the poor girl’s soul is now at peace, even after having been controlled by two different demons for such an extended period of time.”

And to tell the truth, Sam hadn’t given a moment’s thought to Ruby/Lilith’s meatsuit. He’d been a bit preoccupied at the time. But now that Castiel mentioned it, yeah, it was nice to know.

“So how can you help me get rid of her? Is there a chance that taking her out of the game will stop the whole seal-breaking and apocalypse?”

“A chance, yes, but not a certainty. I can do many things, Sam, but seeing the future is not one of them.”

“All right, but you said before I still have my powers. Can I use them to stop her? To kill her?”

There was a slight hesitation before Castiel answered his question. “I believe that you can. But not on your own. You will need training, and something else that you might find distasteful.”

“More distasteful than the end of the world? Doubtful. Tell me what it is.”

“Blood. The blood of demons would work, but your role in upcoming events is too dangerous to risk any prolonged exposure to them. Mine will have to do. I can give you my blood, and I can teach you how to strengthen your powers, use them efficiently, and hopefully avoid some of what has been foretold.”

Sam was taken aback, not exactly sure how to process this. “Your blood. How…I mean…”

“You will drink it. I will give you as much as you need, and not more. My understanding is that addiction is a possibility and I would like to avoid that if I can. My instruction will be necessary for you to harness the power inside you so that you can use it properly.”

“Why? I don’t understand why you’re offering to do this. You told me before that you act on orders, you don’t do things on your own. No one could have ordered you to help me like that. So tell me why.”

“There is something I will require from you in return. It is not something I knew before that I needed, but I suspect my millennia of taking orders has finally, as the saying goes, caught up with me. Here, with you and your brother, in this vessel, I find I require something more. And I believe you are the correct person to give it to me.”

Castiel’s pupils had turned dark and his voice had acquired a tone colder than his usual neutral delivery. Sam was slightly afraid to ask what the price was the he’d have to pay for Castiel’s gift. But whatever it was, if it was going to help him take Lilith out, stop the apocalypse and avenge what had happened to his brother, he’d pay it willingly.

“Tell me what it is, then. What can I give to you? You’ve already said I’m an abomination, and you’re a holy warrior of God. What could I possibly have that you would want?”

The very last thing Sam ever expected to hear was the one word that followed.

“Submission.”

Sam’s eyes turned to slits and his fists curled at his sides. “You’ve already made it pretty clear that you can force me, or anyone else really, to submit to you anytime you want. Why would you ask?”

“My preference is that you would give this to me freely, and I did assume that since what I am willing to give you will help achieve your goals, that you would agree.”

And goddamnit. Sam was at a loss at that point. All kinds of images were going through his head, there were about a million kinds of ways a person could be submissive, and Sam hadn’t ever experienced any of them himself. He was stubborn, headstrong, independent…sure, when he was a kid, he’d done what his father had told him, but that’s what kids did, right? Listen to their parents? Most of the time, anyway. Even then, when the consequences were never pretty, he found ways to subvert John’s rules whenever he could get away with it.

So what now? He was supposed to take orders from this angel in his holy war? Or was it something more personal than that? Castiel’s blown pupils and gravel voice from earlier came back to him. Was this…oh, Christ.

“Are you talking about something sexual?” Sam asked, a horrified look on his face.

Casually, Castiel replied, “Yes, eventually, and in some other ways that will have no sexual connotation at all. I realize that my vessel is male, have you not engaged in sex with men in the past?”

Sam scoffed at that. “If I had, you’d know, right?”

“I would, if I chose to read your thoughts. I choose not to. Answer my question.”

That voice was getting more and more intimidating by the minute, and Sam wondered if Castiel was using his powers to make him feel compelled to respond. He’d said he wanted Sam to agree willingly, though, so maybe his reactions were natural.

“No, I – I mean, not sex, really. Just, you know, when I was a teenager, some fooling around-”

“I do not require the details, but I appreciate your honesty. Are you opposed to it? The sexual component, I mean? I realize that the submission will be a much more difficult task for you.”

Sam swallowed, hard, and reviewed his options. His conclusion was that revenge against Lilith trumped everything else.

“I’m fine with the…the sex. The other – whatever, other things, I guess, you’re right, might be more of a challenge.”

For the very first time, Sam saw Castiel smile.

“I welcome a challenge. Since it will undoubtedly take longer to accomplish this task, we will work on your submission first.”

Instinctively, Sam looked toward the door of the motel. “Dean…”

“Your brother is currently engaged in the act of cunnilingus with a woman who has lied to him about her marital status. I will make sure he does not discover her dishonesty, as I am certain it would make him uncomfortable. But he will not return until close to sunrise, that much is clear. Do not concern yourself with that right now. I need you to answer this question for me.”

Sam sensed this was something serious, so he pulled himself up, abandoning his natural slouch, and looked Castiel in the eye.

“With the understanding of what I am offering you, do you give yourself to me freely, and without hesitation?”

And that was it, really, wasn’t it?

“Yes.”

“On your knees, then.”

And this time, unlike before when he had just been using words, Sam didn’t hesitate. He dropped to the floor in a second, kneeling before Castiel just as he imagined he’d have done years before if he’d found himself in the presence of an angel, fists clenched against his thighs and eyes darting around as his emotions fought a cage match in his mind.

Again, he saw Castiel’s smile, which was not exactly warm or comforting. More like terrifying, if he had to categorize it.

“Very good, for a first attempt. It’s all right for you to look at me, I will expect you to keep your eyes raised unless you are instructed otherwise. However, you will need to move your arms. Place them behind your back and intertwine your hands or fingers, whichever will help you to stay in place. And lower your head, drop your chin, but keep your eyes on me. Can you do that?”

Sam didn’t think it sounded too difficult. He looked directly up at Castiel as he clasped his right wrist around his left at the small of his back and lowered his head without moving his eyes.

Castiel nodded.

The next thing Sam knew, he was nude, his clothes folded in a neat pile on the floor.

That was when he started to panic.

“I thought you said the sex part was going to wait a while…”

“Your nudity is not for sexual purposes. It is only because I wish it to be so, and because I believe it will help you to feel what is necessary to please me for now. Lift yourself up, onto your knees as much as you can.”

Sam complied, feeling oddly more comfortable that way, at least mentally.

“Now, spread your legs. Not too much. Enough to give you a little more leverage in this position, physically.”

Doing as he was told, Sam was still perplexed. Why did Castiel seem so concerned with him feeling comfortable?

“Tell me why-”

His sentence was cut off by a sharp backhanded slap to the left side of his face. “Do not speak again unless I ask you to. Nod if you understand.”

Eyes stinging from the humiliation of being slapped like that, Sam could do nothing else but nod.

“Thank you. You will hold this position for one hour. Do not move.”

Castiel disappeared.

Sam thought this would be a piece of cake. He was in excellent physical condition, and it’s not like he hadn’t endured stress positions in the past. However, after fifteen minutes, his legs began to shake. Feeling sweat dripping down his forehead into his eyes and seeing that he was still alone, he chanced to wipe the perspiration from his brow. Before he even had a chance to move his hands back to where they belonged, Castiel materialized in front of him, looking disappointed.

“Not even twenty minutes, Sam? Even for a first attempt, I expected better of you. However, since I realize you are not accustomed to this, I will give you a gift.”

Immediately, Sam felt his wrists being bound. Though he probably could have done it with his mind, Castiel moved behind Sam and fastened restraints around his wrists. They felt soft and hard at the same time, probably leather and metal, though obviously Sam had no way of seeing them. “That will keep you from moving your hands again. But if you move anything else, there will be a consequence.”

And then he was gone again. It took everything Sam had to stay where he was, but he did it. Head down, eyes up, weight on his knees and sweat rolling unchecked down his face and chest and arms. It was fucking torture. What the hell had he agreed to if this was just one tiny little first lesson? Maybe he wasn’t as strong as he thought.

When Castiel returned, his look was much more pleased. “You did well.” The restraints vanished and Castiel continued. “You may stand.”

It took a moment or two before Sam could muster the strength to move, but Castiel’s voice prompted him. “I should have been more clear. Stand, Sam.”

And that was really all it took. Sam was on his feet in seconds, a little dizzy and probably bruised, but not that much worse for the wear.

“So, you think I-”

Again, his sentence was ended with the cracking of Castiel’s hand across his face. “I told you to stand, Sam, not to speak. I know you will require more practice before you learn to be properly submissive, but simple commands like do not speak…well, even an hour should have been long enough for that to sink in. As I said, I look forward to a challenge but I will not tolerate that kind of willful disobedience.”

An apology lingered on the edge of Sam’s tongue, but he just kept his position – standing now, but his head still lowered in submission and his eyes meeting Castiel’s. He did the best he could to keep the heat out of his expression but was not successful.

“If I were you, I’d consider finding a way to control my body language. But I know this is our first lesson, and I’m willing to give you a slight amount of leeway. Don’t count on it in the future. However, it is time for you to see why you agreed to this. Sit on the bed.”

Sam took a deep, steadying breath and did as he was told. Moving was awkward with his hands still behind his back, but he hadn’t been told to move them so he didn’t. He watched as Castiel carelessly discarded his overcoat and jacket, slowly rolling up the sleeve of his white shirt. He felt a moment of horror when Castiel produced a beautiful but clearly very sharp blade seemingly from thin air, but relaxed somewhat when the angel simply held it to his own forearm.

“You will need to drink directly from the cut. It will very likely be unpleasant, at first, but you will not stop until you have been told to do so. Nod if you understand.”

Sam nodded as he watched Castiel open a four-inch gash across the inside of his arm, then placed the injury directly in front of his mouth.

And all right, this was the point. Everything he’d done, the things he imagined he would do in the future, they were all for this. The angel blood was going to give him back his powers, give him the strength to kill Lilith. So he did as he was told and closed his mouth over the cut, sucking deeply.

Castiel was right. More than right. It was definitely unpleasant, more like disgusting.

At first.

After a minute or two, though, he started feeling something else. Like those couple of months at the beginning of his sophomore year at college when he dabbled in snorting coke at parties. He was immediately focused, a tingling sensation filled him up, making him feel like he was more, enough that he barely felt that nasty aftertaste dripping down his throat. This time it was something real dripping down his throat, but he didn’t care.

Sam had stopped his dalliance with drugs after the first horrified look he gotten when he’d offered some to Jessica at a party shortly after they started dating. He didn’t want to imagine what she’d think about this.

It didn’t last long, though. Another minute and Castiel told him to stop, so he did, watching as the angel made the cut disappear as if it had never been there.

“How do you feel? It’s all right for you to answer, you may speak when I ask you a question that requires a response other than yes or no.”

“I’m not sure how to describe it. Very focused, but kind of shaky. Something else, I’m not sure what it is exactly…” Sam was finding it difficult to speak when the inside of his mouth was still coated in blood. He could feel it cooling on his lips and wanted very badly to wipe it off but to his surprise, after less than one evening, he was already wary of making the slightest move without permission.

He wished again that it was Castiel’s powers controlling his mind and making him feel this submission, but he knew it wasn’t true. It was him. Yeah, maybe there was potential for power in him, but clearly there was potential for this as well. Castiel was just forcing him to recognize and embrace it. That didn’t make him feel any less humiliated, even with the effect of the blood still coursing through every part of him.

“I suppose it would be difficult to categorize. With practice, you will once again be able to move things with your mind, and I will teach you how to exorcise demons.”

“I already know how to exorcise demons.”

Before he knew it, Castiel had grabbed a handful of hair at the back of his head and planted him face-first onto the carpet next to the bed. “You would do well not to show me an arrogant attitude, Sam. Stay exactly where you are. You can sleep on the floor as punishment. I will be sure that you are in your bed before your brother returns.”

As usual, without a word, the angel was gone.

Sam knew he wouldn’t be getting much sleep. Asshole hadn’t even thrown a pillow down for him. He was angry and confused and afraid and still more than a little bit high from the blood. He contemplated the entire situation again, and decided he was still sure he’d made the right decision. Castiel could do what he wanted to him, as long as he made good on his promise to help him control his powers. They were there, and they could help, so no matter what Dean had said about the inherent danger of their existence, what was the point in letting them sit and go to waste when he could use them to do something right?

Eventually he must have drifted off, because he woke up in his boxers and t-shirt, comfortably under the covers in his bed, Den passed out and snoring a few feet away.

They’d been careful, it was a necessity. Sam couldn’t have Dean finding out what he and Castiel were up to. Not any of it. Sometimes he thought Dean suspected something, but he never said as much, so Sam just kept quiet.

Castiel had been right about his powers. Yes, he could learn to exorcise demons more efficiently, but eventually he could actually kill them, send their demonic asses straight back to Hell where they belonged. The process hadn’t been easy, though.

Mastering things like telekinesis turned out to be much simpler than Sam expected. It was a good thing for him, too, because his failures were met with physical punishments that left him more exhausted and wrung-out than any training he’d done. He’d gone to bed with split lips, black eyes and skin broken under Castiel’s belt several times before waking up whole and healed the next morning; no marks left but the pain still there as a reminder.

Once Castiel felt he was ready, he brought Sam to an abandoned building containing nothing but a possessed human chained to a chair in a devil’s trap.

“Concentrate, Sam. I don’t expect you to kill this one, just remove it from the host body against its will. We’ve talked about this, practiced the necessary techniques and mindset required. Now, you will put it into practice. Do not expect any leniency from me if you are unable to do as I say.”

The demon in front of him sneered. It hadn’t heard their conversation, but the dynamics in the room were fairly transparent.

“A hunter taking orders from an angel? Well damn, I didn’t think there was anything left that could surprise me. Give it your best shot, though, kid. You gonna throw some Latin at me?”

Silently, Sam held up his hand in front of him as he took slow, deep breaths and concentrated on connecting with the demonic presence, moving it from where it was like he could move a book across a room. After a minute and a half, his nose was bleeding and the demon was laughing.

Fuck.

“Sam, lower your hand.”

For half a second, he was tempted to ask for just another minute to try, but he’d learned by now how bad an idea that would be. So he did as he was told. With his arm halfway back to his side, Castiel grabbed his elbow and held it steady. “Keep your hand out, palm up. Do not move.”

Closing his eyes, Sam complied, pretty sure of what was coming next but so damn close to refusing because how could Castiel do this in front of the demon? Another lesson, he supposed.

Castiel produced a small, thin piece of a cane from his pocket and landed it across Sam’s palm, hard. Instinctively, Sam pulled his hand to his chest. He knew it was a mistake but he couldn’t help himself. The sting was awful, painful enough to literally take his breath away for a few seconds. But not as bad as the outright anger he felt rolling off the angel at his action.

“I can force you to be still, but I won’t. It’s a gift you don’t deserve. Now return your hand to its position. Do not move again until you are instructed to do so. Do you understand?”

Sam nodded, knowing this would not be a good time for him to attempt speech. He flushed with the humiliation of this demon looking on, laughing as he was punished. He held out his hand willingly, and tears were streaming down his face as Castiel brought the tiny cane down three more times. With each strike, Sam desperately fought the urge to cradle his damaged hand against his body, but he managed to keep still by reminding himself how much worse it would be if he moved. The cane left behind nasty pink welts and a couple of spots where the skin had broken.



At that point, Castiel just returned the horrible implement to his pocket and said, “I am hopeful that will serve as a reminder of my expectations. Try again.”

Shaking and still fighting tears from the pain and the sound of the happiness his misery brought to the demon, try again he did. This time he created a cloud of black smoke in less than sixty seconds.

Castiel untied the unwilling meatsuit of the demon, sent him on his way (certainly with a bonus mind-wipe) and simply said, “I’ll bring in the next one now.”

This was going to be a long night. Sam’s hand was already throbbing. He swallowed hard at the thought of more…this was their first time trying this with demons and he knew he wasn’t going to get everything right. By the time Castiel decided they were finished for the night, Sam’s right palm was a bloody mess but six demons had been exorcised without a single syllable of Latin having been uttered.



Chapter 2