Chapter Text
Sam was mortified.
"It's all good Sammy," Dean reassured stripping the saturated sheets off the motel bed. "That hunt was shit and those six beers you downed last night knocked you out good, I wouldn't have woken up either if I was in your state."
It made sense Sam had pissed the bed, Dean practically carried him back from the bar, but what didn't make sense to Dean was if Sam was so adamant about being a Dominant, how ashamed he was of the accident and how willing he was to let Dean take care of the mess. Dean didn't mind helping but what he did mind was how Sam hid behind his self-appointed "Dominant" classification and allowed blatant signs that he was anything but to be swept under the rug.
They would never know if Sammy was a Dominant or not. John refused to let them get tested for their own safety and by the time he died, they were FBI fugitives and waltzing into a testing centre that required fingerprints for identification was definitely not an option. Dean supposed they could get tested on the black market but he doubted the accuracy of the results and how long their classifications would be kept secret, money did talk. If either of them were classified as anything but Dominant, which he suspected Sam's would, their reputation would implode and the part-fear, part-respect that helped them in the community would disappear leaving them to work twice as hard and Dean sure as hell did not want to work twice as hard.
Sam had mentioned in passing once that angels could identify a classification with a single touch and Dean had clung to that hope praying the rumour hadn't been made up to reassure those unsure about their classification and that there was another way, an illogical way, to check. It was why when the two of them met Cas, Dean's heart skipped a beat. One touch and Castiel could determine their classification. Either a Standard Dominant, Master, or Daddy if either of them fell toward the Dominant classification or a Slave, Brat, Little, Princess, or Pet if they fell in the Submissive classification. There were rarer classifications of course, such as Heavy Dominant or Sissy but those were so few and far between, Dean didn't even remember they existed when he looked at Castiel. All he knew is he was one of them and he wanted to know.
The disappointment was evident when Castiel informed them he could feel neither of their classifications but only a murky sensation of confusion. They were cloaked in something, something that Castiel could not break through and Dean assumed John had cloaked them for protection. Yes, Castiel suspected an archangel could bypass the spell but not a single one had been sighted in eons leaving Dean and Sam once again to be comfortable with their self-appointed classifications. Well, John-appointed classifications.
"Dean, I'm sorry." Sam apologized profusely pulling uncomfortably at the wet material clinging to his skin. He was disgusting. Standing in wet and cold pants, allowing his older brother to clean up his piss. Sam wanted to raise his voice, push Dean away, and clean it himself but - he couldn't. He didn't want to deal with the mess alone, he craved for somebody else to take care of the problem, to assure him it was all okay. He loathed that it was Dean who always took care of the problem. He was there whenever an 'incident' like this occurred, always ready with an excuse as to why it happened, always there to help him when the nightmares came, always there to stand up for him when another hunter called him a sissy. Sam didn't want Dean to be the one handling these issues, he wanted Dean to take care of himself and stop worrying too deeply about his younger brother but Sam couldn't bring himself to say those things because despite the shame he felt, he couldn't deny that he craved Dean's help. His only saving grace was that he knew once they returned to hunting, no angel crap, he would be able to get a grip and act like the Dominant he knew he was.
"Shower," Dean said pointing towards the bathroom door. "And then breakfast. Both our hangovers need some food."
----
"Cas, what the fuck!" Sam exclaimed, trying to mop up the copper liquid.
"I am sorry Samuel," Cas replied confused. "Have I done something wrong?"
"You can't just appear without warning!" Sam said angrily now blotting his shirt with a napkin. This was his last clean shirt and with Dean's refusal to go to the laundromat any day but Wednesday, less crazies was his rationale, Sam was stuck in a stained shirt for the next two days. "You spilled my drink Cas."
"I did not mean to cause you harm."
"It's all good Sam," Dean reassured diffusing the situation. "It's a bit of coffee, no biggie am I right?"
No, it wasn't a big deal but Dom's didn't spill drinks on themselves. When the waitress came back and saw the mess she was going to automatically assume his classification. He hated being prematurely classified and the mess - it wasn't even his fault!
"What brings you here?" Dean asked taking a bite of sausage simultaneously gesturing at Sam's untouched food, a signal for him to eat up. "Something wrong on the angel radio?"
"Yes. There has been talk about a trapped angel in an abandoned house, there are wards surrounding the place meaning I cannot enter but you two could, a quick case that could earn you a favour from an angel. I thought you two would be interested."
"Yes," Dean said automatically. A favour from an angel, that always could come in handy.
Cas nodded and began to detail the wardings inscribed on the walls that he could see and any potential dangers his senses had picked up.
"Sweetie, you alright?"
The conversation halted at the presence of the waitress, standing over them with a concerned smile and a pot of coffee in her hands. "It seems like somebody's made an uh-oh! Next time hun, ask for a sippy cup or bib, that way you'll stay all clean!" She stated in her gentle southern drawl. Leaning over she poured Dean another cup of coffee whilst leaving Sam's empty. "Sorry sweet cheeks but as a Momma myself I don't feel comfortable unless you have a sippy cup or bib on. Just holla at me if you want either or if you need anything else." And with that, she turned and walked away.
"Not a word," was all Sam could muster.
---
If Cas hadn't provided them with coordinates, Sam would have driven right by the house. It blended seamlessly into its surroundings and driving closer, Sam could identify the layer of dust coating the home. It definitely was run-down, the perfect place to trap an unsuspecting angel.
"Jacket," Dean said as they stood in front of the porch steps. "I'm not crossing that threshold until you holding on, if we're gonna be transported into another dimension, we sure as hell aren't getting split up."
Sam obliged reaching out and grabbing a handful of the coarse fabric. Sam couldn't object to such a childish act when the logic behind it was sound. Both had been transported to alternate dimensions before and neither wanted it to happen again, they could deal with anything as long as they were together.
Feeling Sam's grip prompted Dean to start walking and soon they were at the entry of the house, Dean pausing to make sure he still felt Sam's grip on his jacket before taking a tentative step across the threshold. Nothing.
"Thank god," sighed Dean with relief.
"There's nothing here," Sam said letting go of Dean and bringing up the angel blade. "This looks like an abandoned house - I don't even see any vigils."
"Hold on Sammy," Dean said beginning to look in the nooks and crannies for a button. He checked underneath the mothy seat cushions, between the deteriorating books, and even the blades of the ceiling fan before nodding in agreement. "You're right, there's nothing."
"Of fucking course," muttered Sam.
"He probably mixed up the address or something," defended Dean. "All these rundown places look the same, no doubt he's waiting at the Motel right now with zero clue he sent us to the wrong place. I mean, even angels can be wrong."
Sam whipped around, hearing the creak automatically tensing for a fight.
"Whose there?" Dean yelled cocking his gun at the emerging figure. "Hands up or I shoot!"
"You can try but you won't have any luck," cheekily responded the figure, their left hand flicking sharply to the left before letting out a squeaky laugh as he watched the boy's weapons fly out of their hands. Now, it was time for some fun and games.
The figure snapped his fingers and both Sam and Dean froze, glued to the place they were standing. "It's time for some fun boys," he sang as he sauntered towards them. "It's always fun to play with hunters, brave and invincible hunters - ha! They're not brave when they're with me."
Close enough now, the figure reached out and grabbed Sam's shoulder before huffing and dropping his hand and walking over to Dean. "You better be different," he muttered touching Dean's should before groaning in frustration. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," he muttered snapping his fingers, transporting a frozen Sam and Dean back to their Motel room with Cas sitting patiently on the bed.
"This is a poor trick," the figure said, his voice now dropping to a less high-pitched octave. "You said you had something fun for me. You said you had two hunters who needed humbling but you tricked me! These two would be blubbering messes and no fun at all Cas, not cool dude, not cool!"
Those words confirmed Cas's suspicions. Under the guise that he could use the Winchester's for some delicious tricks, Castiel had sent them to the abandoned home knowing that if either of them weren't fully Dominant, which he knew they weren't, that this archangel wouldn't enjoy having fun with them.
"Woah. Woah. Woah." Dean interrupted finally getting his wits about him. "What the fuck is going on? Cas, you know this man?"
Cas stood up and placed a hand on the left shoulder of the unknown man. "This is Gabriel, my brother and an archangel."
"That's a load of crap," Dean exclaimed. There was no way this short little man with greasy hair was an archangel. Dean could drop kick him in an instant, weren't archangels meant to be all powerful and at least good looking?
"Excuse me, I personally think I am good looking," spoke up Gabriel undoing the brown cloak he was wearing and letting it vanish into thin air. "That's quite rude of you to think. It must be your lucky day because a comment like that normally lands you inside a caterpillar's mouth but for a submissive, I would never be that cruel. Woe is me, having a soft spot for littles. It's just - they are no fun to trick. They genuinely believe what happens to them and god, the crying, they never stop crying. You know what ruins a trick? Crying."
"Hold on a minute," interjected Sam, his hands on his hips as he tended to do when he was confused. "What?" Was all he could muster. Who was Gabriel to make such outlandish claims and why had Cas brought this man into their lives with the guise of a fake angel rescue mission instead of telling them the truth.
Gabriel rolled his eyes. "What's so hard to understand little boy? I thought Cas was helping a brother out but instead he played a trick on me. A trick in which I was able to determine your classifications. Eh, I was going to be angry at him for such a trick but truly, you two are such unique classifications that I can't stay mad! This is a different gift in of itself, to know the true nature of the Winchesters? A delight!"
"A Dominant but also somehow Submissive?" Gabriel laughed pointing towards Dean. "It gives me chills! You are going be a bundle of fun with that classification, no doubt already ready to stir up trouble. A Standard Dominant with, wait a minute - a Standard Dominant with Submissive tendencies? I cannot believe it. So unique! So exciting!"
"And you," twirled Gabriel until he locked eyes with Sam. "You are a Little through and through. In fact, you have the strongest Little pull I have felt in decades, I myself could barely resist it. You don't even have a hint of the Submissive classification, you are a full-blown Little and that is all. Mummy's and Daddy's are going to be fighting over you to be their caregiver. Ugh, just talking about it gives me chills."
"Standing in this room is the most powerful Little I've seen in decades and an individual with a mixed classification. Thank goodness this is more exciting than watching them survive a wormhole over and over and over, so interesting! You two are lucky I can appreciate a good trick otherwise Cassie here would be stuck in that wormhole with you. It's still an option if you want - No? Oh, boo."
"I'm sorry," spoke up Cas cutting off Gabriel. He could sense the boys were beginning to spiral and he had to interject before Gabriel could continue. He wanted to look into their minds and understand what they were feeling but it felt wrong, if he was going to help them, he needed to do it without prying into their thoughts, to allow them to have a truly private space of their own. "I knew how desperate you two were to be classified and when I ran into Gabriel, I found myself believing this was the only opportunity you would have. I care for you boys deeply and only wanted to help."
"How cute," cooed Gabriel. "I'd love to hear the rest of this sappy conversation but I've got to get going, another trick to oversee, you know how the business is. I cannot wait to see how this unfolds so do not worry, I am not going anywhere and Sam," Gabriel said turning to him, "If you're looking for a Daddy, I wouldn't oppose," and with a wink he was gone.
Dean needed to sit. Sam could feel his chest tightening. This was not right, those classifications were wrong.
"It looks like we have a lot to talk about," Cas said.