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18 November 2016 @ 07:24 pm
Poisk Istiny [Finding Truth] - Chapter Seven A  

Rufus’ & Bobby’s Hunting Cabin
1572 Quaker Village Road
Weybridge, Vermont

Dean sat in the living room talking with Sam while Cas busied himself in the kitchen. Dean looked up at his mate as soon as he walked into the room, watching as Castiel moved over to the recliner and handed Sam a cup before taking a seat by Dean and passing him one as well.

Dean sniffed the drink and scrunched his nose up. “What is this shit?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “It's tea. I made it with the cream you bought.”

“I don't like --”

“Shut up and drink the tea, Dean.”

Dean huffed but did as his mate said, slightly grimacing at the taste.

Sam snorted as he took a sip of his. “I know who's going to wear the pants in this relationship...” Sam leaned forward and set the cup down on the coffee table. “So... you two, huh?”

Dean smiled and pulled down his shirt collar, showing Sam his mark. “Yup, mated and claimed.”

Sam wrung his hands together and Dean could tell he was choosing his next words wisely. “How are you two going to--” Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Just... how?”

Dean placed his hand on Castiel's knee. “Secretly… at first. Castiel's doctor, Crowley, came last night and gave us special cologne to hide our mated scent.”

Sam looked at the mated pair. “So you two plan on letting the families know about your claims?”

Dean nodded. “Yes, Cas is my true mate, Sam. I'm not going to keep him a secret for long. I don't want to hide, I want to be with him.”

Sam nodded back and chewed on his bottom lip. “So Castiel... how do you think the Bratva will take the news?”

Castiel sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I have lied to them over half my life, Sam. You know the Mafia’s views on Omegas...” he gripped his mug, “how do you think they will take the news? I will be seen as a liar and traitor and they will want my head.”

Dean growled at the thought of anyone hurting his mate. “No one will lay a hand on you Cas. Omega or not, you are in charge. And like we agreed, we are making changes within our families.” Cas placed his hand over his mate's and nodded.

Sam waited a pause and then cleared his throat, drawing attention back to him. By the look on his face, Dean could tell it was time to get down to business. “You guys need to get back to New York now. Both families are in a state of chaos with their leaders MIA.” Sam scrubbed his hands down his face. “The day after Bobby...” He shook his head and Dean could tell he was trying to ground himself before he continued.

“The day after we found Bobby, Bellomo retaliated against our attack on his warehouse. There was a large shipment of AKs scheduled to come in to the docks for the Family. The Bratva,” he looked over at Castiel, “sent Ephraim and Inias and I,” his eyes flicked back over to Dean, “sent Frank and Chuck.”

Both Don’s nodded and murmured their agreement on the chocies. Sam snorted in response.

“They were good choices yeah, great choices. And Bellomo's men slaughtered them in broad fucking daylight.” Sam shook his head, swallowing hard as his voice lowered. “He’s thrown caution to the wind, had a firefight between some of the police that showed up that they hadn’t paid off, and then they took the shipment!”

“Sonovabitch!” Dean leaned toward his brother and scrubbed a tired hand over his unshaven chin. Sam mirrored his actions and Dean’s eyes flicked over to see Castiel was just as angry as the brothers.

“It get’s better.” Sam gave a dry laugh and ticked his head to work out a nervous kink. “When we went down to the warehouse after hours with a few of the cops on the Bratva’s payroll, ‘This is just the beginning’ was written in blood on the front of the container. I’m not sure,” Sam let out a frustrated sigh, “if there was anything else left behind. I don’t have much pull with the NYPD and since clean cops were involved, everything was taken in for evidence.”

Castiel clenched his fists. “Blya Bellomo, on pokoynik!

Dean swore under his breath and reached for Castiel’s knee, giving it a squeeze. “English, Cas. Sammy and I don’t know what the hell you’re saying.”

He understood the frustration, however. Getting police involved was the last thing any of them needed… it was always complicated, messy, and ended up with innocent people getting killed.

“We need to kill him,” Castiel seethed. “We need to stop fucking around and take him out!”

Dean sighed, shaking his head. “The list just keeps growing; Bellomo, Lucifer, Gordon.”

Castiel turned to face his mate, his expression stormy. “You did say we needed to clean house.” Sam nodded his agreement, leaning tiredly back into the couch.

Dean reached for his cup, taking another sip. He made a face once he remembered it wasn't coffee but tea. Castiel rolled his eyes and took the cup from his mate's hands and began to drink it himself. “Anything else happen while Cas and I were out of commission?”

“Actually yeah.” Sam pulled himself back up. “Michael called me for a meeting at Padshiye Angely yesterday. He questioned me about your whereabouts, Dean.” He glanced over at Cas, continuing, “Said it was funny that you and Castiel were both unaccounted for.” He frowned remembering. “He didn't come out and say it, but he implied you may have had something to do with Castiel missing.”

“Michael?” Castiel didn’t hide his surprise.

Dean growled, pissed at the implication that he could ever hurt his mate. Sam held up his hand trying to calm Dean down. “I told him you went out to search for Gordon and that if either one of us knew where Castiel was, he would be the first person we told. I'm pretty sure he believed me.”

“What is Michael doing calling meetings?” Castiel’s eyes were narrowed in thought as he tried to keep his anger in check.

“Well,” Sam cleared his throat and suddenly looked nervous. “It seems, in your absence, he’s taken over the daily affairs. Says he’s been looking for Lucifer, you, and Gabriel.” Cas’ brows rose in a combination of surprise and anger. Sam nodded in agreement. “Mmm, after torturing one of Bellomo's main men for information, he found out that Lucifer was in league with Bellomo and that Lucifer had kidnapped Gabriel to get him on their side. He found out that Lucifer’s plan was to torture Gabriel for information about you,” he nodded at the Pakhan, “and your weaknesses if he didn’t agree to join their side. Michael put out a search for Gabriel’s body.”

“Well, then,” Castiel crossed his arms over his chest, “it's a good thing I don't have any weaknesses.” He looked over at Sam with a cocky grin.

Dean smirked and playfully bumped his shoulder with his mate's. Castiel turned and scowled at him, fighting the faint smile that wanted to spread across his lips. “That's my badass Omega.”

“Right, well, as much as the eye fucking is adorable and all, we need to make a move.” Sam rolled his eyes, earning himself a glare from Dean and Castiel. “What’s it going to be?”

“Well, Castiel and I got what we needed from Crowley… so I guess we are ready to go.” Dean glanced over at Castiel who nodded slowly. “Vacation’s over.”

Sam snorted and shook his head. “I’m glad. You can be in charge, I am over it.” Dean rolled his eyes this time and looked down at the empty mugs on the table.

“So, Bobby…”

“He’s back in Boston. I have him with Alastair right now…” Dean watched as his brother swallowed back the sudden swell of emotion, keeping his expression set to pure business. “We’ll give him the right send off. I was thinking up here, someplace he loved. The city is home, but it’s business, not pleasure. He should be out here.”

“I agree.” Dean sighed. “Once this crap settles, we’ll get Rufus and come out here with Bobby. Is Rufus--”

“Yeah, I promoted him to Bobby’s spot for now. Everyone knows it’s technically temporary until your say so, but I think everyone knows he’d be your pick anyway.” Silence fell over them and it was Castiel that broke it.

“Alright… I need to show my face, let my brother know what is going on and figure out what we’re going to do about the izmennik” Dean raised an eyebrow and Castiel gave an apologetic smile at noticing his mate’s confusion. “Sorry, the traitors in my family, in yours. Lucifer and company.” Castiel clenched his fists and Dean nodded once. He couldn’t imagine what Castiel was feeling. If Sam had betrayed him the way Lucifer had...

“Guess that’s a word I should get to know, huh?” He looked at his mate, trying the word out for himself, “Izzmnenn…”

Iz–meyn-nyik,” Cas pronounced it slowly, “means traitor.” He let out a soft sigh. “I know you have one of your own, but it’s a word that neither of us should have to know.” He grinned almost shyly at his mate, “I’d rather you learned to say moy istinnyy krasivyy pomoshchnik kapitana.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. “And what does that one mean?”

Cas grinned and melded himself close to his mate. Dean held his breath as Castiel got closer, his breath warm against Dean’s ear. He could feel his mate’s smile as he whispered, “My true, beautiful, handsome mate,” and couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips. Across from them, Sam rolled his eyes again, groaning out loud as Dean reached for Cas’ hand and kissed the back of it, suddenly realizing that this would be the last time for a long time that they would be able to show affection so openly. When he pulled back, he winked at Sam, knowing that through the posturing, his brother was truly happy for him.

“I’ll pack our bags.” Dean pushed off of the couch and nodded once to Sam, giving Cas a wink before he left the room. As he started up the stairs he heard Sam telling Castiel he would help clean up the place so they could lock it up.

Dean looked around the small master bedroom that he and Castiel had been sharing for over a week and sighed. The moment they left this place, all hell was going to break loose. For a moment, Dean wished that he could have a normal life, wished he hadn’t just spent the past hour listening to how the closest thing he had to a father was murdered and how people he’d trusted, people Castiel trusted, were against them. He wished his brother could be home with his new mate and they could all be planning a vacation out to the cabin instead of being forced to hide in it because of a hit on his mate’s head.

Once they left the cabin, Dean knew he couldn’t be Dean anymore.

He shoved all of their clothes and the toiletries they had spread around the room and bathroom into the duffel bag, and tidied up the space so that it would be set for the next time they were there. By the time he was finished, Castiel and Sam had finished downstairs and Castiel was busy hooking his gun into his holster at the door.

Dean accepted his piece from Sam and opened the door for his brother and mate. He locked the door and pulled it shut, taking a moment to stare at the closed door before he turned around to head to the Impala. Dean was left behind, now he was Don Winchester, leaving with his underboss and the Pakhan of the New York Bratva.

“Let’s finish this,” he said over the top of the Impala and Castiel nodded, his face set as he slid into the passenger seat. Dean caught Sam’s eye as he slipped into his rental and waited a moment before he started up the engine and peeled out down the driveway, with Sam following him close behind.

Padshiye Angely
403 Brightwater Avenue
Brighton Beach, NY

Castiel parked in his usual spot, glancing over at Dean who was staring deep in thought out the window. They had driven five hours, stopping at Castiel’s house once they got into the city. They unpacked their things and while Dean went to start their laundry, Castiel ordered them all lunch. They’d eaten in relative silence before Castiel declared he was heading to the club to see Michael, and Dean insisted on going with him, needing to do something other than stare at his younger brother working on his laptop searching for Gordon. But since they’d gotten into the car, Dean had been uncharacteristically quiet.

“Hey…” Castiel said softly, leaning forward to catch Dean’s attention. “I… Look, about Bobby…”

“I know, Cas,” Dean answered just as softly and shook his head before giving Cas a small smile. “Can't think about it right now. Leave my shit at the door, right?”

Castiel nodded after a moment and reached for the keys, pulling them out of the ignition. “Well, we have plenty of other shit to deal with on the other side of your metaphorical door.”

“Now ain't that the truth…” Dean muttered and looked back out the window. “So… Who are we looking for here?”

“Well, I doubt Lucifer would be stupid enough to come here but I want to check his office, just in case. He's always been good at keeping things hidden though…” He let out a small sigh. “He's my brother but even I couldn't crack half his codes. We might find something and not even know that it is something.”

Castiel looked back at the door leading to the club and gave a half shrug. “Michael might be here, too. I should, at least, show him that I am very much alive and get caught up on what's been happening. Sam knows a lot, but he's not family--”

“Well, technically…”

Castiel rolled his eyes and continued. “He's my family, but not Bratva, so Michael wouldn't feel obligated to share anything with him. Michael may know something more about Bellomo, Lucifer, Gordon, or any other goddamn moles there might be.”

“Well, let’s do this then,” Dean said as he reached for the door handle and pushed it open. Castiel nodded and got out of the car, meeting Dean on the backside. For a moment, he wanted to reach for his mate. He forced the feeling down, wondering where the hell that had come from.

Castiel led Dean through the club, waving off questions from the staff that worked there as well as the bykis that were posted. When Castiel reached his door he noticed it was ajar and the lights were on. He glanced over at Dean and motioned to his gun before he removed his own from his holster and kicked the door open, training his gun on the intruder.

Michael, who was sitting at Castiel’s desk, jumped and cursed. “Lisus grebanyy khrista Castiel!

Castiel sighed and lowered his weapon. “What are you doing in here, Michael?”

Michael raised an eyebrow and stared at Castiel like he had more than one head. Finally, his older brother barked out a laugh and stood. “What am I doing in here, Castiel? What am I doing in here? I don’t know… looking for clues as to where you were! Trying to lead this Bratva since you went missing!” Michael’s voice slowly rose with each word until he was almost yelling across the desk. “Trying to keep every damn person that comes to me asking where their Pakhan is and if they should be worried, calm! Do you know how hard it is to lie to your family every single day, Castiel? Do you? Because that is what I have had to do for you! Because I wasn’t important enough for you to call and tell that you were alright!” Michael took a deep breath, concern etched into his face, and asked, “Where were you? What were you doing?”

His eyes trailed over Castiel’s shoulders and he glared at Dean before he snapped his gaze back to his brother, anger back. “Don Winchester seems to know that you’re fine! Have you decided to join the Patriarca family, Brother?”

Castiel growled and rounded the desk, coming face to face with his eldest brother. “It would do you good to remember who you are talking to, Michael. And as for where I was and what I was doing? I was taking care of business and that is all you need to know, Brother.” He spoke with a tone of finality.

Michael stared back at him for a moment before he blew out a breath and let his shoulders slump back, taking a step away from his Pakhan. “You are right, Castiel. I forgot myself. With both you and Gabriel missing… I was worried and I suppose… perhaps slightly overwhelmed. But you are back, and for that I am glad.”

Castiel nodded once before he cleared his throat and asked, “Do you have any information on the izmennik Lucifer? I’m assuming you do know it was him that was in league with Bellomo?”

Michael nodded. “I know that he was responsible for taking Gabriel. Speaking of which… I have as many men as I can spare sweeping the family property. We found some disturbing evidence that lead me to believe that’s where Lucifer took Gabriel, but I have been unable to find his body.”

“Have them continue searching, I don’t want them to stop until he is found!” Castiel barked as he moved past his brother and sat down at his desk. Michael side stepped him, giving him room to pass and Castiel refused to look up at him. He wasn't going to give away any more information than was necessary. Michael was his brat, he was family, but so was Lucifer.

He waited for Michael to take a seat on the opposite side of the desk, watched from the corner of his eye as Dean stayed silent and standing off to the side-- to show respect, probably, since this was a ‘family issue’. He was grateful-- he didn’t want to explain Dean’s presence. He looked up at Michael and felt his gut twist. Could he trust him?

No, not like he trusted Gabriel for all these years, and now his mate. So the information Castiel would give to Michael would be need to know. There was no need for Michael to know Gabriel was alive or his location. Right now Gabriel was safe, he didn’t need help from the Bratva. At least not yet anyway.

“So, other than looking for Gabriel, have you gotten a lead on Lucifer? I assume that he’s fled the city by now…”

“Naturally.” Michael gave a curt nod to his brother. “I’ve sent men to his properties down south and so far, all we found was his ex-mistress, the blonde one with the fake… everything.” Michael rolled his eyes and Castiel looked at him, confused for a moment. Lucifer had a lot of mistresses. “Lilly? Something…”

“Lilith,” Castiel groaned. “The one he used to take to every family function so she could get plastered and embarrass the family. I wasn’t aware she was still around…”

“Neither was I, brother. But she was in his house in Austin. Was apparently waiting for him when we showed up and was quite surprised when it was Gadreel that walked in and not Lucifer. They waited a few days in the area to see if he would show up, but I am convinced that she was a distraction. Gadreel is still with her, watching all of her communication in case Lucifer does come back to collect her.”

Castiel tapped his fingers on his desk in thought. “Do you think Bellomo could be harboring him?”

Michael nodded. “I have also considered that possibility. I have m-your best Shestyorkas and Boyeviks from the security group I lead looking for him as we speak.”

Castiel opened his mouth to speak and Michael’s cell ringing cut him off. Michael held up his finger, signaling for his brother to give him a minute. Castiel gritted his teeth and his jaw flexed at the brazen motion. He was Pakhan, he was not to be silenced by a fuckin’ phone call. He almost said as much but decided against it as he watched his brother’s face carefully, waiting to see what call could possibly be so important to Michael that he would answer it while they were discussing business.

Krushnic, razgovory!” Michael smiled. “Otlichno! Vstretimsya v klube, v garazhe.”

As Michael ended the call, his attention turned back to Castiel. “We found him. Lucifer.”
Cas motioned for Michael to continue. “He was using the alias ‘Nick’ and hiding out in a hole in the wall motel owned by one of Bellomo’s colleagues. They are on their way here with him now.”
Michael stood and straightened his suit. “Why don't you--” Michael paused and let his eyes trail over to where Dean was standing and assessed him before turning back to his brother, “And Don Winchester --if he is staying-- set up the Chernaya Komnata to your liking while I meet them in the parking garage and bring our traitorous brother to you.”

Castiel nodded and Michael turned and strode past Dean, not even gracing him with a look as he exited the room. Dean walked over and took Michael’s vacated seat, kicking his feet up onto the desk as he looked over at Castiel seated behind the desk.

Cherr-nay-ya Komen-nyata room?” The Alpha struggled with the pronunciation.

Castiel smiled at him. “Yeah, it means ‘Black Room’. It's where we do interrogations.”

Dean leaned forward in his seat, his eyes shining as he asked, “You mean it's where you torture… izz-meyn-nyik?”

Castiel nodded, impressed his mate had been picking up some of what he had been saying in Russian. He shrugged as he spoke, “Interrogations, torture, isn't it essentially the same thing in our line of work?”

Dean huffed a laugh. “You’ve got me there. Now let's go get this Cherr-nay-ya Komen-nyata set up so you can get some payback for what that fucker did to Gabriel.”

Chernaya Komnata
403 Brightwater Avenue
Brighton Beach, NY

Castiel, Michael, and Dean stood by the table that held the ‘tools’ Castiel had chosen. They looked down at Lucifer who was in the process of being chained to a steel chair by Castiel's bykis. When they were finished securing him they nodded to the Pakhan and left the room, closing and locking the door behind them.

Castiel stepped forward with a small, malicious smile as he approached his brother, his eye trailing over the thick rope that was biting into the flesh of Lucifer’s wrists. Michael and Dean stood off to the side watching, waiting to see what Castiel was going to do.

Lucifer tried to straighten up in the chair as Castiel approached, he huffed out a stilted laugh, though the duct tape plastered over his mouth prevented him from speaking. Castiel tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips as he pinched the edge of the tape and ripped it from his brother’s mouth.

"No fun in having that there.” Castiel gripped Lucifer's chin and forced him to look him in the eyes. “It will muffle all the screams I'm going to draw from you. It will muffle you begging me to stop.”

Lucifer barked out a laugh, wrenching his face from Castiel’s grasp. “Me, beg? Me, scream? You know me better than that, Brother. I like the pain. Why do you think I'm so good at the job you gave me, Castiel?”

Castiel backhanded his brother, sending his head reeling to the left. Lucifer looked straight ahead and smirked at Castiel as he darted out his tongue, cleaning the trail of blood the oozed from his split lip. “Why? Tell me why, Brother? Why did you betray me? Why are you working with Bellomo?”

“Because you don't deserve to be Pakhan!” Lucifer bellowed. “It should have been me!” His eyes glittered with unchecked hate. “I should lead this family! I have no idea what father saw in you, Castiel. You were a child when he picked you, his favorite,” he spat his face twisted with disgust. “He must have been half senile from the cancer when he named you Pakhan. Why am I working with Bellomo? He wants you dead as much as I do!”

Castiel took a step back, his eyes never leaving Lucifer’s until he was at the table, and he turned to grab the steel bat from the end before facing his brother again. “Do not talk about father like that,” Castiel growled as he moved forward and raised the bat high in the air, bringing it down hard on Lucifer's left knee, smirking at the sickening crunch it made on contact. Castiel watched as his brother struggled not to scream and as he strained against the restraints holding him back. Castiel lifted the bat and pressed the end against Lucifer’s kneecap, leaning his weight onto the weapon.

Poshel na khuy, Castiel! Eto vse, chto vy poluchili?” Lucifer hissed, his leg crumpling to the side.

Castiel slid the bat away from his knee and lifted it higher, pressing the tip of the bat against his brother's throat. “O, Lucifer, moy dorogoy brat.” Castiel ran the bat along his brother’s shoulder as he leaned closer to him. “Ya tol'ko nachal. Kogda ya zakonchu s vami, chto vy sdelali, Gabriel,” he pressed the end of the bat steadily against Lucifer’s already damaged knee and whispered, “budet vyglyadet' kak detskaya igra.

Castiel tossed the bat back on the table and Lucifer laughed the hollow sound that echoed through the room. “Gabriel got what he deserved!” Lucifer hissed. “He refused me! The little pizda!

Castiel’s backhand was swift and hard. Blood mixed with spittle flew from Lucifer’s split lip as his head snapped back against the chair. The man shook his head as he righted himself. He let out a mirthless, hollow laugh.

“Do not talk of our brother with such vulgarity.” Castiel backhanded him a third time, “You talk of him with respect!”

“He refused me,” Lucifer righted himself again, “No one refuses me. And for what? For you? You are weak compared to me, Castiel.” He licked the blood from his lip, “Bellomo is going to bring this family down! You can't hold it together! Not like I could.”

Lucifer smirked, his head dipping down so most of his face was in shadow as he chuckled under his breath. “He screamed, Castiel. He begged for me to stop. That's when I knew I didn't want him as part of my Bratva.” Lucifer paused and sneered, “He's weak, just like you, Brother.”

Castiel stayed silent, surveying the tools in front of him. He reached out and grabbed a cordless hand held drill. He pressed the trigger, watching as the drill bit spun a few times before he turned and crossed back over to Lucifer. He pressed it against Lucifer’s thigh, just above his shattered knee, and looked up to meet his brother’s eyes, the one feature they had in common.

“I will show you weak,” Castiel said as he pressed the trigger and the drill came to life, the drill bit spinning and burrowing into the flesh of Lucifer’s thigh. Lucifer grunted and his breathing sped up to a rapid pace as flesh, cloth, and blood pooled around the wound. Castiel watched Lucifer's eyes as the drill bit tunneled deeper, grinding to a halt when it reached his femur. Castiel removed his finger off the trigger and pulled the bit straight out of Lucifer's leg, blood dripping to the floor from the metal.

“Who else? Who else is working with you Lucifer?” Castiel demanded as he tossed the drill aside, ignoring it as it skidded across the concrete floor.

“Fuck you, Castiel!” Lucifer spat out.

Castiel moved quickly and shoved his finger through the hole in Lucifer’s jeans, into his thigh, his fingernail digging into the raw muscle of the wound. “Who?”

“I'm no goddamn snitch! So I will say it again-- fuck you!” Lucifer gritted out, his eyes flashing as he stared his brother down. Castiel withdrew his finger from the hole in Lucifer's legs and balled up his fist, pulling it back before punching his brother in the face.

Blood trickled from Lucifer's nose and he laughed manically as he whipped his head back forward, blood flying onto Castiel’s shirt. “Again, Castiel! Show me what you are made of!” Castiel drew back and hit him again and again until he felt his own knuckles split. He stepped back and took a deep breath, Lucifer still laughing as he spit a glob of blood on the floor by Castiel's feet.

“You want to see what I am made of? What I'm really made of?” Castiel growled as reached behind and grabbed the pliers off the table, quickly turning back to Lucifer. “Otkryt' shirokiy Bol'shoy brat.” For the first time since Lucifer had been tied to the chair, Castiel saw a spark of dread in his eyes. It made a smile spread across his lips.

Lucifer clamped his mouth shut and Castiel shook his head, his hand shooting forward to grip beneath Lucifer’s chin, his thumb and forefinger pressing hard enough to bruise. “Don't make me slice your lips off so I can get to your teeth. I will do it, Lucifer, and I will enjoy doing it.”

Lucifer sneered and opened his mouth. “Do your worst, trus.

Castiel gripped the pliers and Lucifer’s jaw tighter, pulling his brother’s head up at an uncomfortable angle. “We will see who is a coward,” he promised and then pushed the pliers into Lucifer’s mouth, the body of the tool holding his tongue down as the tip of the pliers closed around a left back molar. Castiel gave a hard jerk and the tooth didn't budge. Lucifer grunted and Castiel smiled down at him, watching as drool dribbled out of the corner of his mouth.

Castiel yanked again, wiggled it back and forth. The tooth moved and Castiel felt Lucifer try to clench his jaw around the pliers, to swallow the collection of spit in his mouth. Lucifer's eyes started to water and Castiel could tell it was against his will. There was a loud pop as the tooth came free and Lucifer moaned quietly, a gush of blood filling the hole. Castiel withdrew the pliers, opening them to let the tooth fall with a soft ‘clack’ to the floor and then repeated the process on the opposite side. He moved next to Lucifer’s front teeth, lifting his head higher to get the right angle; the left one came out with the root still attached but right one snapped, leaving half the tooth protruding from his gums.

Castiel tsked as he placed the half tooth in his hand. “Oh, I’m sorry Lucifer... I broke that one. Here, let me try again.”

Castiel forced the pliers back into his brother’s mouth and closed them around his gum and the small piece of tooth before jerking forward hard. The remainder of the tooth crumbled in between the jaw of the pliers.

Castiel took a step back towards the table and crossed his arms as he watched Lucifer starting to choke on the blood that was rapidly filling his mouth. Lucifer coughed violently, thick, dark blood splattering onto the ground before him.

“Are you ready to talk yet?” Castiel handed the pliers to Michael. He watched as Lucifer's eyes tracked his movements.

Lucifer shook his head and slurred, the grin he gave completely red. “I'm just starting to have fun.”

Castiel leaned down and gripped his brother’s knee, the one he had already shattered. Lucifer hissed and Castiel smirked at him. “So am I, Brother. So am I.”

Castiel looked over his shoulder and saw a chair pushed up against the wall by Dean. He motioned to it and waited for Dean to kick it over before he sat down, knees bumping Lucifer’s.

“Michael, hand me the needle nose pliers. Dean hand me the blowtorch.” Castiel said over his shoulder. He could hear Dean and Michael getting the tools he asked for. “I'm going to rip off each of your nails slowly until you talk, or pass out from the pain, whichever comes first. If it’s the later, I will wait for you to wake up and start again.”

Lucifer laughed and blood bubbled from the sides of his mouth. “Really? It would take a lot more than that for me to pass out, Castiel. Do you know me that little, Brother? I'm wounded.” Lucifer flexed his hands the best his restraints would allow and looked down at his nails before he smirked at his brother. “I'm in need of a manicure anyways. I was going to make an appointment soon, looks like you are saving me the trouble. I should thank you for that, Castiel.”

Michael handed him the pliers and then he took the blowtorch from Dean and lit it, holding the tip of the pliers to the flame to heat them. Castiel worked at his leisure on each nail, humming under his breath over the hisses of pain or hard breaths coming from Lucifer. He took out his frustrations on what Lucifer had done to Gabriel as he grasped each nail with the red hot metal and slowly pried it from the nail bed before tearing it completely off the finger. He relished in every gasp or groan Lucifer made, that was as good as a scream coming from him.

By the time he had removed all ten fingernails, Lucifer was sweating, fighting hard to keep his body from shaking in pain. Castiel handed the pliers behind him and someone took it from him. He reached forward, grabbing his brother’s hand in his own, and demanded, “Tell me who the fuck is working with you!” He pressed down on the exposed nail bed of Lucifer’s middle finger.

“No!” Lucifer growled, his entire hand tensing and he tried to pull away.

Castiel stood abruptly, the chair flying back and falling onto its side. He let his eyes roam along the table and his gaze stopped on the scalpel. He picked it up and twirled it in his hand, thinking before he spun back to Lucifer and lashed out, the blade cutting into Lucifer’s skin, just above his right eye, as if it were butter. Castiel watched as blood blossomed from the cut and dripped down into his brother's eye. Then he leaned down into his brother’s face. “Tell me, Lucifer!”

Lucifer smiled and Castiel gripped him by his hair, jerking his head back to expose his throat.

Michael’s voice cut through the tension. “Sdelay eto Castiel. On ne sobirayetsya govorit', tol'ko zakonchit' eto uzhe. My budem vyyasnit', yesli yest' kakiye-libo drugiye izmenniks.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened as Castiel drew back his hand. “Castiel! He--” was all Lucifer got out before the scalpel sliced his throat open and his words were garbled, simplified into bubbles of thick, dark blood gushing from his throat. Blood dripped from the corner of Lucifer’s mouth, his last breaths gasps, his body struggling against the restraints until all the fight left him. Blood had sprayed Castiel’s face, turning it crimson. He stood still, scalpel resting by his side as he watched the light fade from Lucifer’s wide, finally terrified eyes.

After Lucifer had stilled, Castiel stared at him until the blood ceased its flow. When he was sure his brother was gone he reached up and ran his hand down his face, closing his eyes. Castiel turned to see Michael and Dean watching him. He took a moment to collect his thoughts and then tossed the scalpel on the table and closed the small gap between them.

Castiel sighed and looked at Michael. “The men under his--”

“Already taken care of, Castiel. The moment I found out that he,” he nodded toward his brother, “had turned against the family, I took care of the men under his charge and replaced them with the best boyeviks from my security group. You can trust them, Castiel. They are all good men, they will serve you well,” Michael replied as his eyes roamed over the body of their dead brother. “I will inform the bykis they have a disposal. I'm going to go with them as well. I know he was a traitor, but he was my twin first. I will contact the cleaners as well.” He straightened up as he looked his younger brother in the eye, “Is there anything else you need me to take care of, Pakhan?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes, have Gadreel deal with Lucifer’s bitch, Lilith. I don't want her finding out he's gone and going to the police for revenge. She's crazy enough to pull a stunt like that.”

“I will have her taken care of immediately,” Michael replied, dipping his head as he strode out of the room.

Castiel looked over at his mate. Their eyes met and Dean waited patiently for his mate’s instructions. Castiel watched him carefully for a moment and then smiled. “Come on Dean, let's go to my office so I can clean up.”

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