I just finished the most amazing book called Drawing Blood. It was written in the 90s by Poppy Z. Bright and its about a man going back to the house where his family was murdered twenty years before. Along the way he falls in love with a genius computer hacker with his own dark past. It was so good and spooky and erotic and it hit like all of my favorite tropes. If you''re looking for your next read, I really suggest it!

Stalk The Halls (Chapter 6)

When Castiel came to, he was sitting up right. He head ached and there was something wet on his face. When reached up to wipe whatever it was away, he found that his wrists were ziptied to the chair he was in. Everything rushed back to him then and he began looking around wildly.

Dean was still laying on the floor, unconscious. Castiel saw the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and relaxed marginally. Dean was alive.

"There you are." Castiel tensed when the voice spoke from behind him. Hands rested on his shoulders, he could feel their coldness through his sweatshirt and it made him shiver. "I was hoping you'd wake soon."

Castiel didn't speak. He struggled to match the voice with a face and failed. The hands moved, one down his chest and the other up and his neck into his hair, tilting his head to the side. Bile rose in his throat as lips pressed against his neck.

"I've been waiting for this for so long." Heavy footsteps moved around him and he was suddenly face to face with a man he didn't recognize. "My beautiful little Castiel."

This man was much older than Castiel, than Dean. What little hair he had was white and thin. He carried the middle-age pudge must men had and wore and ill fitting suit. He raised his hands to tuuch him again, causing Castiel to flinch away so hard the chair almost flipped. The man caught it and frowned.

"What's wrong? Don't you want this?" He asked, his fingers pushing under Castiel's shirt. "Don't you want me?"

"No," Castiel said, weakly. The fingers disappeared and the man's face went cold.

"Why?" He demanded. "Because I'm not like them? I'm not muscular or British or handsome? I thought that you were better than that, Castiel."

"You're crazy," Castiel whispered.

"And you're a superficial whore," The man snapped, his hand cracking across Castiel's cheek. Castiel cried out and his expression changed from anger to repentance. He fell to his knees from front of him.

"I'm so sorry," He whispered. "I didn't mean it. I don't want to hurt you. Please forgive me." He laid his head in Castiel's lap. "I love you so much, Castiel. You have to forgive me."

Castiel stared down at him incredulously. He wanted to tell him to fuck off. To leave him alone and never speak to, look at, or write to him again. But he was so violent and unpredictable that that wasn't and option.

"I-its okay," Castiel stammered. "I forgive you."

"You do?" The man asked, sitting up to look into Castiel's eyes. Castiel nodded, unable to speak anymore. "Oh, thank you, Castiel. I promise I won't do anything like that again. I'll protect you. Not hurt you."

He reached out again and Castiel turned his face away, unable to stop himself. He didn't want those hands on him. He didn't want this man anywhere near him. The notes had made his skin crawl but seeing him in person was worse.

"Why can't I touch you?" He asked. "I know I'm not like the boys you dated before, but I can make you happy, Castiel. Please, let me touch you."

He didn't let Castiel pull away this time. He grabbed his face in both of his hands and kissed him, worming his tongue into Castiel's mouth. Tears filled Castiel's eyes and slipped down his cheeks as the plastic around his wrist dug into his skin when he tried to jerk away. Finally, the man moved back with an expression of glee.

"I'm going to make you so happy, Castiel. You'll never want for anything again."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Castiel whispered. The man froze, his face going dark again.

"Why the hell not?" He snarled.

"You've been stalking me for months!" Castiel accused, earning another slap across the face.

"I've done nothing but worship you!" He shouted. "I wrote you love letters, I watched you sleep, I protected you. But you whored yourself out to those neanderthals! You let them have you any way they wanted, any time they wanted. And now you think that you're too good for me?"

He hit Castiel again and again. Castiel was in so much pain, he almost didn't notice Dean moving behind the man, struggling to get up.

"Stop!" Castiel cried, causing both of them to stop. "I'll go with you. I'll do whatever you want."

The man paused, and a slow smile crawled onto his face.

"I knew you'd see it my soon enough," He said, pleased.

"I'll need clothes," Castiel said. "You can go to my room and pick whatever you like best. Then we can leave."

"I'll buy you new clothes wherever we end up," The man said. Castiel shook his head.

"Why risk it? My roommate will report me missing when he doesn't see me here when he gerpts back. My face will be everywhere. Just get the clothes I have and it will save you time and aggravation later.

The man narrowed his eyes and stared at Castiel for a moment. A soft smile replaced the look of mistrust and he nodded.

"Alright, darling. I'll be back soon and we'll leave this place behind." He kissed Castiel again, then disappeared into the darkness behind them. Castiel heard a door close a few minutes later. Then Dean was up on his hands and knees, moving over to him.

"Jesus, Cas," He whispered, wiping blood way from his busted lip. "I'm going to get you out of here, okay? I just have to find something sharp enough to cut these ties and–"

"Dean," Castiel interrupted. "You need to get out of here before he comes back."

"No way. I'm not leaving you here."

"Dean, please. If he finds out that you're awake, he'll kill you. I know he will. You have to go now."

Dean shook his head. "I won't leave you. I can't."

"You have to," Castiel whispered. "I'll be okay, Dean. Please just go before he gets back. I won't be able to live with myself if anything happens to you."

Dean grabbed his face and kissed him hard and deep. Castiel wished that his hands were free so that he could hold Dean's face like Dean was holding him. But all too soon, Dean pulled away.

"I'm going to save you," He whispered, before leaving Castiel alone.

Castiel was unable to fight the tears any longer. Sobs ripped out of his chest in a way that was painful. He pulled at the bounds on his wrist until they were red with blood and it hurt too much to struggle.

Why had this stranger chosen him? Castiel couldn't recall ever seeing him before today. That somehow made it worse. How could this man have gotten so enraptured with him when they had never even spoken?

Castiel flinched when heard footsteps coming towards him in the dark.

"Cas, it's me," Dean said. The ties around his wrist were cut and Dean pulled him up. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"No," Castiel said, shakily, answering both questions at once.

"It's okay. We'll get out of here. I just need to–"

An enraged scream cut him off. There was a horrible cracking sound and Dean fell. A piece of pipe clattered to the ground at the same moment, thrown from across the room.

"You stupid little whore!" The man yelled, coming from nowhere and knocking Castiel to the ground. He sat on his chest and started hitting him again, slamming the back of his head in to ground every chance he got. "I could have given you everything! But you had to choose him. You don't a choice now!"

Finger curled around his thoart. Castiel scratched at his hands, trying to pull them away to no avail. The world was starting to go dark when a gun shot sounded.

Blood splattered across Castiel's face and the hands around his neck loosened. The weight of the mans crushed him as he sagged forward, dead.

"It's okay, Cas," Dean's voice sounded far away even though he was right next him, shoving the body away. "You're going to be okay."

Castiel passed out.

When he woke up, he was in a hospital room. Dean was sitting next to him, holding his hand tightly. He smiled when he saw Castiel's eyes.

"Hey," He said, softly.

"What happened?" Castiel demanded, hoarsly. "Who was that?"

"His name was Zachariah Adler," Dean said. "He used to be a professor at the colloge theory yeaers ago. He got fired when his obsession with a student led to the kid committing suicide. But that didn't stop him from coming back on campus unnoticed."

"Why did he pick me?" Castiel whispered. Dean sighed and pulled out his phone to show Castiel a picture of a boy with dark hair and blue eyes.

"The police think the similarities between you and this kid, Michael Godson, made him target you," He explained, softly.

"But he's dead now?" Castiel asked. "You shot him?"

"Yeah. He's gone. I'm so sorry, Cas. If I had just–"

"There was nothing you could have done," Castiel said, shaking his head. Dean nodded lightly.

"I'm just so glad that you're okay," He whispered, leaning in to kiss him. Castiel turned away.

"I can't. I'm sorry, I just..." Castiel bit his lip to keep from crying again. "I just need to be alone right now."

"I understand." Castiel turned to look at him. Dean's eyes were slightly sad, but he gave Castiel a small smile. "I'll always be there for you. Whenever you're ready, I'll be there."

"Thank you," Castiel whispered. Dean stood and kissed his forehead.

"I'll go get your nurse," He said, softly.

Then Castiel was alone again.

Anon asked: Prompt: Friday night: "Dean, I can't. I'll get in trouble, my Dad won't like it." Dean doesn't take no for an answer. Monday morning: Dean approaches Cas at his locker and notices the bruises on his wrists and his split lip. "What the hell happened, Cas?" and for once Cas decides he's not going to lie about it any more and simply defeatedly says "I told you my Dad wouldn't like it." and tries to walk away. Hurt!Cas + Protective&posessive!Dean + happy ending please!

"Come on, Cas, it'll be fun!"

"Dean, I can't," Castiel said, leaning back against his locker. "I'll get in trouble. My dad won't like it."

"Please, Cas," Dean asked, closer so that his lips brushed against his ear. "It'll be fun. I'll make it worth your while."

"Dean," Castiel started to turn him down again but Dean cut him off with a kiss. Castiel sighed against his mouth. "Okay. But only for a few hours."

"Awesome. I'll pick you up from the library at six."

~*~

On Monday morning, Dean walked into the school, still floating from Friday night with Castiel.

They had gone to a party that Jo invited them to. They hadn't been there long before Castiel was tugging Dean back to his car. They drove to an empty field and moved to the back seat. They spent an hour steaming up the windows and sucking hickies onto each other's skin before Dean had to get Castiel back to the library so his dad wouldn't realize he was gone. Dean had spent the rest of the weekend fantasizing about how much further their half naked grinding could have gone.

Castiel was at his locker when Dean found him. Dean leaned against the wall next to him and put on his best smile.

"Hey, gorgeous," He said, dropping his voice to a low purr.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel replied, not moving away from his locker. Dean frowned.

"Are you okay?"

Castiel sighed and closed his locker, turning to face Dean. Dean sucked in breath and reached out to touch Castiel's face. His finger tips brushed over the bruise on his eye and cut on his lip.

"What in hell happened, Cas?" Dean demanded. He knew that there were people on the football team that bullied him when he wasn't around. Castiel flinched under his hand and Dean lowered it.

"I told you my dad wouldn't like it," He said quietly, looking at Dean with sad blue eyes for a moment before turning to walk away.

"Cas, wait," Dean said, gently catching his arm. Castiel winced when Dean's hands landed over the bruises his father had left there. He allowed him to pull him closer and cup his unbruised cheek. He always had his suspicions that Castiel's father was abusive, but with the proof staring him in the face he didn't know what to do.

"This is my fault," Dean whispered. Castiel shook his head.

"No, Dean. I should never have left the library. I knew that this would happen, but I did it away."

"Because I asked you to. I'm so sorry, Cas."

"It's not like its anything new," Castiel said, tugging at his long sleeves.

"You're not going back there," Dean said. "You can't."

"I have nowhere else to go."

"There's plenty of room at Bobby's." Castiel shook his head.

"You can't just invite me to live there, Dean, it's not your house. I'll be fine. I have been for years."

"Cas, Bobby will let you stay with us if you tell him what's going on. He'd never stand for this. I'll give you my bed if u have to, but I'm not letting you go back to him." Castiel looked a little scared, but relieved. He nodded and hugged Dean again, hiding his face against his neck. "It's going to be okay, now. I promise."

Dean stayed by Castiel's side as much as he could, guarding him from any nosy classmates and glaring at anyone who looked at him the wrong way. Jo offered to cover the bruise with make-up, but Castiel declined, afraid that it might hurt when he had to clean it off.

Dean drove him back to Bobby's after school was over, glad that he didn't have to pick Sam up for another hour. He didn't want him questioning Castiel before he had a chance to explain the situation. Castiel looked nervous when they pulled up to the house, so Dean squeezed his hand.

"It's okay. Bobby's not to judge you."

"I know. I'm just worried. What if my dad comes looking for me?"

"Don't worry about that. You never have to see him again."

Dean called for Bobby as soon as they got into the house. Castiel clutched his hand for dear life as they heard the man coming closer. Bobby appeared around the corner, a little confused at first, until he saw the bruise on Castiel's face.

"What happened there?" He asked, trying to play off his worry with a gruff voice. Castiel looked down at the ground.

"My father doesn't approve of our relationship," He said, quietly. Dean watched Bobby's face switch from and expressions of shock to one of anger.

"Well, that ain't no one you need to be around then. Dean, come help me set up the guest room. Cas, the kettle's hot if you want so tea, you know where it is."

Dean kissed Castiel's temple and followed Bobby up the stairs.

"I just can't believe it," Bobby muttered under his breath as he pulled some fresh sheets from the closet in the hall. "Beatin' your kid over their orientation. Your daddy won't happy when you came out, but never would've hit you for it."

Dean didn't respond. He helped Bobby make the bed and placed a few blankets on the foot of the bed.

"Cas is scared that he's going to come after him."

"Yeah, well if that happens all hell be leaving with is my boot in his ass."

Dean stifled a laugh and hugged Bobby, surprising the old man.

"Bobby, you're awesome."

"Get offa me, boy," Bobby said, gruffly, though he was smiling a little. "Why don't you get on back downstairs."

Dean nodded and went to join Castiel until had to go get Sam from soccer practice.

Later that night, when they were getting ready for bed, Dean saw the extant of the abuse that Castiel suffered. Bruises covered almost every inch of his skin. Dean brushed his fingers over them, anger once again bubbling in his gut.

"I'm going to kill him," He said, turning around to walk towards the door. Castiel caught his hand before he could get too far.

"Dean," He whispered,his eyes intensely sad. He had came here to escape the violence, not be the cause of more. "Please, just stay with me."

Dean nodded, trying to tamp down on the anger. They laid down together and Dean feathered kisses over every blemish that he saw. He just couldn't understand how anyone could hurt Castiel. When he was sure that he had loved every bruise and scar, he sat up to kiss Castiel's tears away.

"No one will ever hurt you again," He whispered. "Not while I'm around."

New fic rec!

Of Clipped Wings and Chipped Halos by 11oyd.

I think it’s my new favorite.

galllifreyfallsnomore requested: ARE A PERSON IN AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP AND A COWORKER/FRIEND WHO BEGINS TO NOTICE.

Anon requested: Castiel as Dean Smith's assistant.

Anon asked: Dean and Cas, 5 (high school au?) “Are you drunk?”

  Dean was awoken by the doorbell ringing. He jumped, sending the popcorn left in the bowl in his lap flying. He sighed at the mess, then stood up. Knocking had joined the doorbell by the time he made the short trip from the living room to the door.

“What?” He snapped, opening the door. “Cas?”

“Deeean!” His best friend swayed a little, then stumbled into him. The smell of Tequila wafted off of him and made Dean gag.

“Are you drunk?” Dean asked.

“No.” Castiel hiccuped, then giggled. “A little.”

“Okay, buddy, come on.” Dean pulled him the rest of the way into the house and closed the door. “You’re lucky my parents took Sam to that soccer game out of town instead of putting him on a bus. Mom would kill you.”

“Your mom loves me.” Cas said. Dean rolled eyes because he was right. If Mary had been she would be cuddling Cas and petting his hair until he went to sleep. It was Dean she’d kill for coming home drunk.

“What happened?” Dean asked after he got Cas settled on the couch and got him some water.

“My uncle called me a faggot whore,” The younger boy shrugged.

“What else?” Dean hedged, knowing that wasn’t the end of the story.

“He pushed me down the stairs.”

“What the fuck? Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” Dean gently ran his hands over him. Cas flinched when he touched his wrist. “That bastard. I’ll kill him.”

“I’m fine.” Dean sighed and went to get a bandage to wrap around his wrist. When he was done, Cas shifted to lay his head in Dean’s lap.

“Is this okay?” He yawned.

“Yeah,” Dean said, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re alright. Where did you get the alcohol?”

“Gabriel’s room.”

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“I want to stay with you,” Cas answered, tightening his grip on Dean’s leg until it hurt.

“I’m not going anywhere. You can stay here for as long as you want.”

“Mm...Love you, Dean,” Cas said, rubbing his cheek on Dean’s thigh as he shift himself into a more comfortable position. He closed his eyes and drifted off.

“I love you, too, Cas.”

super-mum-locked requested: “put it down, please!”

Dean was drunk. Very drunk.

He lifted the bottle in his hand to his lips, only to find it empty.

With a groan, he stood up and stumbled to the kitchen to get a beer, now that all the whiskey was gone.

“Dean?” He looked toward the stairs where the soft voice had come from. Cas stood there, looking almost scared. “Please, come to bed.”

“Later,” Dean grunted, twisting the top off of the bottle.

“Dean, please-”

“Later,” Dean yelled, throwing the top at Castiel. He laughed when Castiel flinched and went back to the living room. He passed out on the couch, beer half empty. Again.

Castiel took the bottle from his hands and covered him with a thin quilt. He pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and went back upstairs to sleep alone.

This had been a regular occurance in their house since Dean’s father died. Dean didn’t know how to handle his emotions, so he drank them away until he was too numb to move. Some nights he didn’t even come home, but he’d stumble in the next morning, stinking of booze, perfume, and sex.

Castiel knew that he should put a stop to it, make Dean face his issues, but the verbal abuse that Dean threw at him when he brought it up frightened him.

“Put it down, please,” Cas whispered one night, when Dean reached for his fourth beer. Castiel had made Dean’s favorite dinner, hoping to please him enough that Dean wouldn’t need to drink. Dean made a face at him.

“I’m a grown ass man, Cas. I can have a beer if I want one.” He opened the bottle and Cas snatched it away, moving to the sink, out of Dean’s reach.

“That’s my last one Castiel, don’t you dare.” Cas tilted the bottle up and poured the liquid down the drain. Dean turned a frightening shade of red and grabbed Castiel’s wrist tight in his hand.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” He yelled. Cas struggled against the painful grip on his wrists and Dean shoved him away. Right in the wall with Castiel favorite painting hanging there.

Cas’s cry of pain snapped Dean out of his angry haze. He looked at his husband, crumpled on the ground, surrounded by glass, his blood ruining the peice of art he’d treasured.

“Cas, I-” Castiel flinched away from him, pressing into the wall.

“Get out,” He whispered. Dean’s eyes widened.

“Cas-”

“Get out!” Dean stumbled back and fled from the house. Castiel curled in on himself and cried.

He fumbled to stand, cutting his hands and kness a few times, before managing to get up the stairs to their bedroom. His bedroom. Dean hadn’t slept in their bed for so long….

His tears didn’t slow as he packed his dufflebag, taking one of Dean’s shirts because he coldn’t resist.

He looked around the room and sighed. This room where he and Dean used to spend hours making love on the weekends, the kitchen where Dean taught him how to cook, the living room where they made out like teenagers instead of watching the movies they had rented. And now his whole life was packed into one tiny bag.

He opened his bedside drawer and took out the stationary pad he had there before going back to the kitchen.

~*~*~

Dean was completely sober when arrived home.

He had bought Cas flowers, not because he hoped that they would fix things, but that they would be a step in the right direction. He also had a flyer for a local AA group.

“Cas?” He called. No reply. He walked into the kitchen and the flowers fell from his hands.

On the table, Cas’s wedding ring held down a note. Dean picked it up with shaking hands, tears slipping down his face. He sat down, looking at the note Cas had written. The letters were shaky, as if Cas had been shaking as badly as he was now.

Dean,

I can’t do this anymore.

I can’t watch you do this to yourself and I can’t take the abuse and the cheating. Not again. Not from you.

I love you, so much, but this is not the man I married. I know that he’s in there, but you keep killing him more and more each day.

You need to get help, Dean. And until you do, I can’t be with you. I just can’t

Please call me when you are my husband again. I want to come home

Dean dropped the note and, for the first time in years, let himself cry.

Six Months Later

Dean walked out of the rehab facility feeling better than he had in years.

He expected Sam to be there waiting for him with balloons or some shit. What he got was so much better.

Castiel threw his arms around Dean’s neck with so much force they both went tumbling to the ground.

“Dean,” He was whispering. “My Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean pulled back and wiped his husband’s tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry that I hurt you.”

“You’re better now. You can work on earning my forgiveness later,” Cas said. “Do you have my ring?”

Dean pulled his amulet off and undid the clasp, allowing Cas’s wedding band to slid into palm.

Cas put it back on and wrapped his arms around Dean again, saying how much he loved him and how he had missed him.

“Let’s go home,” Cas said, finally bending his head down to kiss Dean. Dean nodded.

“Let’s go home.”