
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/951986.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Castiel/Dean_Winchester
  Character:
      Castiel_(Supernatural), Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, Michael_
      (Supernatural)
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Police, Statutory_Rape, Alternate_Universe_-
      Prostitution, Underage_Sex, Fluff_and_Angst
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-02 Words: 1704
****** Guardian Angel ******
by mustang_eddie
Summary
     Castiel is a policeman investigating reports of underage prostitution
     at a local bar, and this case makes him particularly sick to his
     stomach.
Notes
     This is my first fanfiction ever. I wrote it in one go, so it's
     probably not that good. I did mark it Destiel because of the
     emotional undertones of the work, but if you're looking for hot gay
     angel sex I'd suggest skipping this one. Thanks, and enjoy!
Cas was uneasy. He had been here before, on similar stings, but this felt
different. Maybe because it was a family member who had called it in. Maybe
because the kid was so young. Interim Police Chief Michael Milton had given him
the news earlier that day.
“We got a call from a man named Bobby from out of state. Said his brother had
left his kids in town for a few weeks to take care of some business. Apparently
Bobby’s brother, John, has a habit of leaving his sons behind with little cash
and no way to call them. Made it sound like John’s deranged. The older one,
Dean, has a record of theft,” Michael slid Cas a photograph of the young man.
“We think he’s the underage one the bar called in about.”
Now Cas was at the bar, which happened to be right on the edge of his town’s
jurisdiction. The music was overly loud, and he desperately wanted a drink, but
there was no alcohol on the job. He’d been there for only fifteen minutes when
he spotted Dean across the bar, chatting up a man in his mid-thirties. Cas
watched Dean bite his full lips and look up at the john with wide green eyes.
He had to hand it to the poor kid; this was a job that Dean was fully equipped
for. He had the feminine, innocent look that so many of these creeps loved. Cas
sighed. He decided to let some time pass, see what would happen before spooking
the kid.
An hour and a half passed, during which Cas had to get a drink to settle his
stomach. He had watched Dean follow three men into a bathroom, only to come out
a short time later looking guilty and roughed up. Cas actually witnessed the
last john tuck a twenty into the kid’s waistband with a smile. Now he was
flirting with a muscular man, ears reddening. The more Cas had watched Dean,
the more he noticed the fronts the kid had put up. The slight falters; the
blushing when it appeared the deed had been decided upon, the shame in his eyes
after returning from the bathroom. It made his stomach twist to see someone so
young do this. When the bar had called a week ago, the owner had said that he
didn’t think the kid was older than 17.
The muscular man leaned down to whisper in Dean’s ear. Dean’s eyes widened with
apprehension. He looked at the man, and then slowly nodded. This time, however,
it looked to Cas that Dean insisted the man pay him up front. At least he was
business smart. He watched as the older man slid a fifty dollar bill to the
boy, and then led him by the arm out of a back door. Cas downed his drink,
checked that his glock was still safely tucked down the back of his pants, and
slipped out the same way the two others had. He made sure to be quiet when
sneaking around to the back alleyway, a popular spot for drunk sex and drugs.
In the back alleyway, the muscular man had stripped Dean down and had him
turned around. Cas could hear them better than he could see them.
“Please, I’ll be really good, I’ll make sure you get yours just please not yet,
I gotta warm up-“the panicked teen was begging.
“Nice try, Tinkerbell, but you’ve been teasing me all night with that tight
little ass of yours, and I can’t wait any longer-“the man was cut off by a
short scream. Cas stepped back and tried to quell his stomach. This was wrong,
totally wrong, and it made him sick. He then realized that Dean had stopped
screaming.
The muscular man had dropped his pants all the way and was ruthlessly fucking
Dean. To cut off his screaming, the man had his hands around Dean’s throat,
using it as leverage. They had moved into a patch of moonlight, and Cas could
see Dean slowly turning purple with tears streaming down his face. His eyes
locked with Cas and widened in terror, thinking he was about to get spit-
roasted. Cas pulled out his gun instead.
“Stop, you are under arrest for the rape of a minor and partaking in
prostitution. Hands in the air!” he yelled at the muscular man.
“Fuck, you’re a minor?!” the man yelled at Dean, pulling out and hoisting his
pants up. There was a pause, and the muscular man pulled out a gun as well,
shooting up into the air in order to break Cas’ concentration. While Cas
ducked, the man took off running. Dean was gasping for air and pulling his
pants back on, leaving behind his ripped boxers. Cas grabbed his walkie out of
his loose pants pockets.
“Dispatch to 11th street, we have a man resisting arrest and fleeing a crime
scene, about 6’4’’, muscular, brunette. Arrest on sight.”
“Roger that, Officer,” was the reply. Cas looked up, just in time to lock eyes
again with Dean, who had redressed and began sprinting away. Luckily, he had
been a runner for years now, and knew the town better than the teenager. He
caught up to Dean just as he was fumbling with his motel key.
“Stop,” he said, pulling Dean back by the collar of his shirt. “Your name is
Dean Winchester, correct?”
“Please, let me go, I didn’t mean to do it-“the boy pleaded, winded from
running.
“Not until you answer some questions, then we’ll see. Are you Dean Winchester?”
Dean looked around, desperate. He determined there was no escape, then slumped
against the door. Cas squatted down next to him.
“Yes. I’m Dean Winchester.” He said quietly. He smelled like sweat and sex, and
it was disconcerting to the policeman.
“Dean, how old are you?” Cas questioned. Dean refused to meet his eyes, burying
his face in his knees. “Dean, please. How old are you?”
“Fifteen. Almost sixteen.”
“Almost sixteen doesn’t make this better. What were you doing in the bathroom
at the bar?” Cas forced himself to ask. He hated this part, forcing them to
tell him what they had done. Dean looked at him with wide eyes again, pleading
for mercy. Cas gave none.
“I sucked them off. They gave me twenty dollars for each time,” he whispered.
Tears flooded down, and he confessed everything to the officer. “I learned how
to from a porn video, I let them cum in my mouth and all over my face, and I
told them I liked it so they would pay extra, I’m sorry, I’m just so hungry
and-“ he cut off with a sob, shaking. Cas gently touched his shoulder, making
Dean jump. He noticed there was still semen in the boy’s hair and already
purple bruises on his neck from where he had been choked. He could see hickeys
on the back of Dean’s neck, probably a mark of one of the men who was in the
bathroom with him.
“Dean, I’m trying to help,” Cas murmured, hoping to calm the boy’s sobs. “What
those men did was wrong, but you too broke the law,” Dean’s sobs only got
louder, and he banged his head against the door. A few seconds later, the door
opened. A gangly child walked out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His pajama
pants were too short, his hair unkempt and wild, and his shirt was tight.
“Deany? Dean, what’s wrong? Are you ok? What’s going on?” the child asked,
seeing his older brother in tears. Dean quickly wiped away the tear tracks, and
put on a front again. This time, it was of a much older, gruff man. Cas got the
feeling Dean was trying to be his father.
“Sammy, you’re supposed to be in bed,” he scolded gently. “I just had a bad
dream, don’t worry about me. Are you feeling better?”
“I’m too hot,” Sammy complained, his cheeks flushed. “My head hurts too, Deany.
Where’s dad?”
“He’s coming soon, bud. I’m gonna get you some medicine and crackers tomorrow.
How does that sound? I’ll get the oyster ones, you like those,” Dean told his
younger brother, trying to get him back inside the motel room. “But you gotta
go to bed now. Promise?”
“Okay,” said the sleepy boy, staring at Cas. He didn’t ask any questions
though, as if strange men talking to Dean outside were a common occurrence. Cas
noticed a rip in the back of Sammy’s shirt. It was old. Sammy shut the door
behind them, leaving Dean and Cas outside in the cold.
“Are you going to arrest me, officer?” Dean asked quietly, looking up at Cas
with his yellow-green eyes. All Cas could see was a terrified child, trying
desperately to keep himself and his brother alive. No mother, hardly a father.
“No,” he finally said. “I’m not going to arrest you.” Cas pulled out his
billfold, and handed Dean three, crisp, one-hundred dollar bills. Dean’s eyes
widened in shock. He looked at Cas, terrified of what the policeman would want
from him for that much money.
“I don’t want anything from you,” Cas clarified. “I want you to take this
money, and the money you earned, and buy you and your brother some new clothes.
Get some jackets; he won’t get the flu if he’s not cold all the time. Make sure
you don’t go hungry.”
Dean was shocked, but this time differently so. He had never held so much money
in his hands at the same time. No words came out of his gaping mouth. Finally,
he hugged Cas tight, and disappeared inside.
“Thank you, sir,” he whispered, eyes alight, as he closed the door. “Thank you
so much.”
Cas sighed deeply as he walked away from the run-down motel. His stomach hadn’t
untwisted quite yet, and his heart felt heavy as well. He didn’t understand
what sort of demons would take advantage of a boy like that, but he prayed that
Dean was going to meet a guardian angel, and soon. As he walked back into town,
he hoped he was a bit of a guardian angel for Dean Winchester, at least for
tonight.
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