
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5224349.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Other
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Destiel, Castiel/Dean_Winchester, Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, Castiel, John_Winchester, Mary
      Winchester, Gabriel_(Supernatural), Lucifer_(Supernatural), Michael_
      (Supernatural), Balthazar_(Supernatural)
  Additional Tags:
      Destiel_-_Freeform, Serial_Killers, Alternate_Universe_-_Serial_Killers,
      Serial_Killer_Dean, Mentions_of_Wincest, Evil_Dean_Winchester, Rape,
      Mutilation, Blood_and_Gore, Violence, Explicit_Sexual_Content, Sexual
      Harassment, Sexual_Abuse, Possessive_Behavior, Murder, cas_is_oblivious,
      Blood_Play, Serial_Killer_Sam, Deaf_Castiel, flower_shop, Human_Castiel,
      gardner_Castiel, Flowers, Gay_Sex, Heterosexual_Sex, gay_slurs,
      Homophobic_Language
  Series:
      Part 1 of Twisted_fate
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-11-16 Chapters: 1/? Words: 3635
****** All Of My Lies ******
by Prince_Jonah
Summary
     Dean is a famous serial killer that has traveled all over the world
     under many different identities. He's well known for the
     disappearances and gruesome murders of over 250 victims. After he
     comes back into the U.S from a trip to Europe to tie up some loose
     ends he up getting into a relationship with a man named Castiel Novak
     to help avoid detection.
I watched the scenery fly by me as I sat in the back of the police cruiser. I
shifted uncomfortably against the hard seat, the handcuffs that were tightly
closed around my wrists, making me not being to lift them more than six inches
off of my lap because they were attached to the ones around my ankles by a
thin, yet strong chain. The two officers that were sitting in the front of the
vehicle stopped talking and glanced back at me through the rear view mirror.
I lifted my hands in mock innocence, the one who was sitting in front of me
mumbling something to the other before things went quiet and I turned my
attention to the side window again. The only sounds for the next two hours were
the rumble of the engine and the occasional conversation that came from the
radio between them and the other officers.
About half way through the drive I looked behind us to look at two of the three
police cars that were traveling with us. In front of us was the other.
“Don’t even think about it Winchester.” I turned my head back around to make
eyes contact with the officer that was driving through the mirror. “You try
anything and we will shoot you on the fucking spot.” His eyes were cold and
normally would have been unsettling to anyone; good thing I wasn’t just anyone.
I let a smile pull at the corners of my mouth and chuckled, turning back to the
window.
“What do you find so funny?” I ignored his question and didn’t speak for the
rest of the drive.
When the prison came into view there was more chatter on the radio. We pulled
into the parking lot and waited a moment for someone to come and open the gate.
Once we were parked outside the entrance of the building I looked around to get
a feel of my surroundings. There were two fences that surrounded the prison and
a dozen or so guard towers with at least two guards in each one. The building
itself had no windows except for the small rectangular ones on the doors.
Both of the men got out of the car and waited till everyone else was out of
theirs.  The shorter of the two opened the door in a quick motion, the cold air
making me shiver. He grabbed me by the upper part of my arm to pull me out and
I went with him willingly. Once I had both of my feet on the pavement and stood
up straight he pulled me towards the prison.
Eight other men and women accompanied us on our walk to the door. When I had
looked up to see if there were guards on the roof (And there was) my head was
shoved from behind and I was told to keep my head down.
“Isn’t this a little over kill?” The female guard who was in front of us that
was about to use her radio to call someone to the door stopped and fixed my
with a glare. “Sorry, didn’t realize you guys had sticks up your asses,” I
joked, not looking away from her. She turned away from me and pressed the
button down again.
“We have 187 at gate three and need somebody to open it.”
“Awe, come on don’t be like that-“ That earned me another particularly hard
shove.”
“You better shut the hell up before we make you,” Someone from behind me
yelled.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, I’m so scared,” I mocked them.
There was a loud buzz coming from somewhere over the steel door. Two more
people came out from them and held them open for us to enter.
This place was no doubt maximum security.
There was hardly any temperature change when we walked in which meant that
there wasn’t any prisoners on the floor level. Everyone was most likely on the
second floor and up. The walls were plain and there were many hallways. We made
a sharp turn to the left and at the end of the hall was another steel door,
this one without a window.
“H-hey, where are you fellas taking me?” I tried to stall. Acting panicked only
earned me yet another hard shove.
“You’re going to be questioned before we put you away for good.” The officer
who still had his hand tightly on my arm growled. The same woman from before
opened the door for us so I could be not so gently be dropped into a cold metal
chair next to a table and another chair. My hands were re-cuffed to two
different loops in the table that were far enough away from each other that I
could barely the tips of my fingers together.
There was a large two way mirror in front of me, giving me a nice view of
myself. The orange I was wearing stood out against the dull colors of
everything.
“Someone will be in here to speak to you momentarily,” Shorty said. “This room-
this whole prison is under watch twenty-four hours a day. If you try anything,
and I mean anything you will be shot on the spot. Do you understand?” I fixed
him a look. A good long hard stare as I leaned back into my chair as much as I
could.
“Yes, officer,” I smirked. Some of the others shared concerned glances with one
another before they were directed to leave the room.
I was left alone for maybe two minutes before a man in a suit walked in. He had
short blonde hard and reminded me of a bird. He had a cup of coffee in his hand
that he set down on the table. He looked me over skeptically before clearing
his throat.
“My name is Balthazar,” He said as he sat down, not scooting his chair closer
to the table like a normal person would. He placed a file down on the table
that I hadn’t noticed somehow. “You are Dean James Winchester correct?”
“In the flesh.” The twitch of his nose was the only sign that I’d gotten on his
nerves as well.
“None of us find your vulgar humor particularly funny, Dean.” He leaned back
into his chair and clasped his hands together. “Do you know why you’re here?”
“Parking violation? Shit if I know-“ He slammed his fist down on the table,
cutting me off.
“Don’t play that bullshit, you exactly why you’re here!” He leaned back over
the table, flipping open the folder that had dozen of pictures. Some were of
bloodied and battered bodies, some of them missing limbs, a few were of me.
There were also pictures of my passports, fake credit card information and IDs.
“You really get around, don’t you?” He started pulling out more information and
evidence, spreading it out over the table. “Germany, France, Mexico, and of
course you’re very well known here in good ol’ America!” He leaned back into
his chair again this time putting his feet up.
“You’ve killed over a hundred people. Why?” He was clearly fishing for an
actual answer with that statement. Regardless of what I said there was no way
out of this situation.
“Actually it’s closer to three hundred, give or take a couple dozen.” His face
didn’t change even the slightest at my matter of fact tone. “And why not? I
mean the world is over populated, give another minute or two and all those
lives will be replaced with new ones.”
“Where and how old were you when you started?” He took a small recording device
out from his pocket and set it on the table.
“Not even going to ask for my permission? What about my rights?”
“You lost your rights a damn long time ago. Now answer the fucking question.” I
rolled my eyes out of annoyance as I recalled the memory.
“I was born in a small town in Germany and I lived with my younger brother and
parents,” I adjusted myself in my seat to get more comfortable, “I made Sammy
watch as I killed both of our parents while they were sleeping. I was nine
years old.”
I remembered that night clear as day. We’d left the house with just the clothes
on our backs covered in blood and were picked up by the border patrol a couple
of days later. We weren’t registered in any data bases because we weren’t born
in a hospital and we had never had any serious health issues. We never said
anything to anyone and we were put up for adoption three weeks later.
“Why did you kill them?”
“My father was a drunk who was constantly yelling and hitting us and my mother
was a whore.”
“And after that?” He took a sip of his coffee then put if back down.
“I killed thirteen more before we were adopted by an American couple six months
later. Three of them were other children in the orphanage.” I remember the way
they tried to run. The way they screamed as I pulled out their nails and teeth
with an old pair of pliers. I smiled when I thought about how I used to be
fascinated with how much blood would come out of their bodies when I sliced
their skin.
“What are you smiling about?” His frown deepened when I laughed his question
off. He took another swing of his coffee before leaning against the table so he
was eye level with me again. “Let’s talk about your husband.” I tensed, fixing
him with a hard stare and frowned, making him smile.
“What about him?”
“How’d you two meet?”
It was a cloudy fall day when my plane landed in Ohio. The first snow had
fallen while I was away in Europe for the past two months. My intent was to
only have been there for two to three weeks to ty up some loose ends, and by
loose ends I mean kill. Unfortunately for me the authorities recognized my
target pattern and shut down the borders after only two bodies showed up.
I targeted mostly women with the occasional man thrown in. I didn’t really care
which gender they were, but I found that women were usually easier to handle in
both a physical and figurative way. I myself was extremely attractive and they
came to me like flies to rotting meat. In fact, it was almost too easy.
Men on the other hand were harder to pull in, and often required some form of
drug to help subdue them. They all usually ended up the same though. Tied up,
helpless as I did whatever I wanted to them.
 And I did do whatever I wanted.
I reflexively grabbed for the arm of my seat when the plane touched down.
“First time flying?” The women next to me asked. Her voice was soft and sweet
and she had short blonde hair. She was a good foot shorter than me and normally
would have been a perfect target, except she had blue eyes.
I don’t like blue eyes.
“Yeah,” lied. I shyly rubbed the back of my neck to emphasize it.
“I’m Christy.” She held out her hand for me to shake it. I took her hand in my
own, giving it a firm shake and smiled.
“Robert.” We continued to talk as we both got off of the plane together. I
learned a bunch of useless information about her like what type of car she
drove, that she was a kindergarten teacher and that she had a dog named Spot or
something and that it was supposed to be funny because he didn’t actually have
spots.
When we reached the doors that lead outside where there was a dozen taxis lined
up ready for people to get inside she slipped me her number and told me to call
her later. Once she was out the door and had climbed into one of them I
crumpled up the piece of paper and tossed it into the trash.
Once she was gone I exited the airport into the brisk air. I quickly walked
over to a storage facility that they had and entered. I walked up to the front
desk and told a middle aged man who I was and why I was there. He grabbed the
keys to my car and handed them to me along with the garage key.
Once I had gotten my baby out of there and checked her out to make sure was
okay I was on the road. I sped down the highway to my house. It wasn’t in a
heavily populated area, but I did have neighbors every three or four hundred
feet or so. I had an acer and a half of land and did a lot of landscaping to
help avoid suspicion. I had all sorts of different kinds of flowers and gardens
and a couple of exotic trees. Most of them were wilted and dead now because of
the frost and lack of care.
I cursed when I entered my home, the smell of rotten fruit hitting me like a
brick wall. I put my bags down on the dark brown carpet and headed into the
kitchen to see what used to be a bowl of plumbs and peaches that was on the
dark wood table. I grabbed a garbage bag out of the pantry and dumped the whole
thing in, not wanting to bother and salvage the bowl.
I walked down my hallway, entered my bedroom and set my bags down on my bed and
climbed into it and laid face down on my white comforter, sighing. I only laid
there for a few minutes before I got up to check and made sure everything was
in order. I opened my closet and pulled out an old chest from the back.
Inside was a just average childhood items, a baseball, clove, cap and outfit
from a baseball team I was on along with a couple of framed pictures, a couple
stuffed animals and an old blanket. None of those items really meant anything
to me except for being used to hide things that were indeed very special to me.
Under all that was a false bottom that opened up to reveal several knifes,
tools, a sawed off shotgun and two handguns along with four cases of ammo. I
had black nylon rope too, but I kept that in the basement on a shelf with some
of my gardening tools.
I sighed as I took one of them out and ran my finder along the blade. I was
itching to kill again, but if I did anytime soon there was a likely chance I
would get caught. And I wasn’t ready to be caught, not yet.
I needed a new cover.
I put the knife back into its sleeve and back into the compartment and
rearranged everything to how it was supposed to be. I closed the chest and sat
back on my knees.
After a moment of thinking and going through all of the possible situations it
came to me. I could get a partner. It would be more difficult to work around
them, but it could buy me more time and I’d be less suspicious.
I thought about my pattern of attacks next.
I usually went after women so it would be best if I found a man to be with to
throw them even more off. I also would have to find someone that I didn’t find
appealing so that I wouldn’t have the urges. I mean I could and have killed
someone that I didn’t like, but I just preferred certain patters and looks to
others.
I turned my head to look out my window. On the sill were once vibrant colorful
flowers, now dried out and ugly.
I looked at the leather watch on my wrist to see that it was just half past
five. If I hurried I could get to the flower shop that was just down the street
before it closed to get some new plants. I made my way out of my room and out
of the house into the quickly cooling air.
I walked briskly down the sidewalk past a couple houses. One of my neighbors
was out raking leaves, a middle aged man that I talked to every once in a
while, Paul was his name. When he noticed me and waved I waved back and smiled.
When he went back to raking I let it fall from my face.
By the time I made it to the small shop it was fifteen minutes before closing.
A bell rang over my head when I opened the glass door and stepped inside, it
was significantly warmer in here than it was outside. Dozens of different
smells wafted my senses and it was almost unpleasant.
There were at least fifty different kinds of potted plants, sprouts and
bouquets of colorful flowers that were in a special stand by the checkout deck.
I went over to the double table with the sprouts and looked through them to see
what I wanted. I grabbed a marigold that had yet to bloom and looked up just in
time to see a young man come out of the back of the store with a green apron in
his left hand. He had dark messy hair and blue eyes that were down cast to a
phone in his hand.
He looked up when I moved to look at another plant. My presents seemed to
startle him and he put his phone away.
“Good evening.” His voice was deep, almost like gravel and there was something
off about it.
“Evening,” I replied with a smile and continued to pick out the plants I
wanted. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him watching my every move. It
put me on edge.
After I got two marigolds, basil and two sweet pepper plants I walked up to the
register and set them down. “Is this everything?” There it was again. The way
that he talked it was almost like he was tone deaf. If he was that would
explain why he was watching me so intensely.
“Yeah, that should be it.” His eyes shifted down to my mouth when I spoke and
nodded. He started to ring them up and I decided to test my theory when he
turned to put them into a paper bag. “Nice weather today isn’t it?” He didn’t
respond. He put the last one in and turned to me like I hadn’t said anything.
“That’ll be fifteen.” I nodded and gave him the money. He put it in the
register and printed my receipt, handing it to me along with them bag. “Have a
nice day.” Before he could turn away from me I moved my hands to sign for him
to have a nice dayas well. Surprise lit up his face and his mouth went slack. A
smile cracked across his face, revealing a sliver of white.
Thank you. He signed.
An idea popped in my head, making me grin.
If I could snag him, he could become a very important asset to me. He was deaf
and was good looking. Another important factor in this was that he had blue
eyes.
I do not like blue eyes.
What is your name? He faltered for a moment before he signed a C then an A; the
letters S-T-I-E-L followed. I smiled at finding out the new information. I
signed my own and he nodded and held his hand for me. I took it into mine and
gave it a firm shake. After I let go he started moving his hands again.
It’s nice to mean you, Dean.
I’ve never seen you here before, are you new? He nodded as he walked around the
counter so there was nothing in between us.
I moved here three weeks ago. He was rocking back and forth and practically
vibrating with excitement. It was very evident that he did not meet a lot of
people that spoke sign language. He signed gesturing to the paper bag, asking
if I liked to garden.
Yes, very much. What about you? He nodded again and raised his hands to say
something else but stopped. His fingers twitched as her stood their trying as
if to form a sentence. His smile fell and he cast his eyes down to the floor.
“I’m sorry,” He spoke louder than he probably meant to. He looked back up at me
when I signed.
 For what?
I’m new at this. His movements were slower this time, suddenly unsure of
himself.
There was a flash of light and the rumble of thunder that startled the both of
us, effectively interrupting our conversation. We both looked towards the
windows to see that it was just starting to rain and that the sky had darkened
significantly.
I should head home. I signed while still looking out of the window.
“It was nice meeting you, Dean.” He said over the clap of more thunder. He
turned for the door, but I stopped him. He looked back at me with a perplexed
expression. I took my phone out and gestured to it and asked if he wanted to
trade numbers. His eyes grew almost impossibly big, it almost looked like he
was about to cry.
Hook, line and sinker.
He hesitantly took my phone and typed down his number quickly then handing it
back. I looked it over before putting it away in my coat pocket and we did the
same with his phone. We exchanged quick goodbyes and then went our separate
ways.
Part one of the plan was in place.
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