Chapter Text
Symbolic Interactionism
Symbolic interaction theory analyzes society by addressing the subjective meanings that people impose on objects, events, and behaviors.
Subjective meanings are given primacy because it is believed that people behave based on what they believe and not just on what is objectively true. Thus, society is thought to be socially constructed through human interpretation.
People interpret one another’s behavior and it is these interpretations that form the social bond.
Some fundamental aspects of our social experience and identities, like race and gender, can be understood through the symbolic interactionist lens.
Having no biological basis at all, both race and gender are social constructs that function based on what we believe to be true about people, given what they look like.
We use socially-constructed meanings of race and gender to help us decide who to interact with, how to do so, and to help us determine, sometimes inaccurately, the meaning of a person's words or actions.
Herman-Kinney Nancy J., Reynolds, Larry T. (2003). Handbook of Symbolic Interactionism. New York: AltaMira.
~ + ~
Dean was pouting as he sat in one of Cas’ office chairs in front of his desk. Cas didn't want to think it was cute, but it was fucking cute. He was ignoring Dean for the most part, reading through his emails on his computer before he signed into the CON's website.
"Road. Trip," Dean said again, slumping down in the chair even more than he was before, legs slung over the left arm of the chair. He was barefoot and wearing a blue, barely-readable band T-shirt and sweatpants.
"N-O," Cas said, deleting the last of the spam from his email account, wishing he had taken his shoes and socks off. The black jeans and dark red button-down shirt he was wearing were comfortable, but he would be much more comfy without shoes and socks on.
Cas blocked another email address, wondering if any of the people who spammed him via email knew they were spamming a serial killer who might just kill them if he got overly sick of dealing with the constant advertisements.
The CON wouldn't be very happy with him if he did that, but it might be worth it if the spam stopped.
"We could have fun doing some roleplay," Dean said, leaning forward in his chair, putting his feet on the floor, and resting his elbows on Cas' desk. He set the manilla folder full of casefiles down on the desk. "You could put on a cute little dress and I could wear tight jeans and a tank top. You could flash a little leg."
"I'm not wearing a dress," Cas said, disinterested and not giving Dean the satisfaction of riling him.
Dean bounced in his seat a bit, obviously sure that he'd gotten Cas to agree to taking the case when all Cas had said was that he wasn't wearing a dress.
"Okay, I'll wear the dress," Dean said, as if it was a big compromise on his part. He used his right index finger to push the folder just a little closer to Cas. "I'll flash a little leg. You can wear the tight jeans and tank top."
"He rapes his victims. No," Cas said, signing into the CON's website. He wanted to check for any new cases that were available even though he’d looked just two hours earlier.
Dean sighed, leaning back in the chair and sulking some. “But the only cases right now are rapists," he moaned dramatically.
"Well, then we'll take a break," Cas said, shrugging and very disappointed to find no new cases. "I've done that before."
"Do you really take a break?" Dean asked, squinting at Cas.
Cas turned his attention to Dean. "Are you asking if I go off and find my own victims just because the CON runs a little dry?"
"Yeah," Dean said, nodding.
"No," Cas said, refreshing the list of cases again before giving up and opening five tabs, each with a different news site. If the CON wasn’t going to provide a lead, maybe he could find one himself.
Dean raised one eyebrow, a small grin on his face. "Really? So you never get a craving? You never just go off?"
"I answered the question," Cas said, giving Dean a tight smile.
Dean opened his mouth to complain, then stopped, frowning for a moment before he smiled. "You do! You do kill in between. You said ‘just because the CON runs dry,’ and that doesn't rule it out."
Cas didn't respond. He was usually very careful about his word choice around people, but the closer Dean got to him and the more Cas revealed, the more Dean picked up on shit like that. Dean saw him.
Cas still wasn't sure he liked it, but Dean hadn't given him a reason to doubt him or to feel like hiding from him, and it was comfortable talking with Dean about things that he'd never spoken about with anyone else.
"So who are you going after?" Dean asked, definitely interested and sitting up straighter in the chair. “How do you do it?”
"I'm not going after anyone until we find a case," Cas said, browsing the news stories from the first tab, hoping for anything that caught his attention.
He closed that tab and moved on to the next one. And the next one. He closed the rest of them and brought the CON’s site up again, clicked on the red flag cases and scrutinizing each one again.
He did that from time to time, having always been intrigued by red flag cases. It wouldn't be the first time he'd taken on one of them, and none of them were getting assigned to specific Cleaners, but if he found one that interested him and fit his criteria, he’d like to take it on just for the challenge.
Cas needed another challenge. It had been almost three months since he'd killed Benny's captors, and in that time he'd closed a few cases, but none of them had been all that challenging, and he was getting restless.
Earlier in the week, Dean asked him what was wrong earlier after Cas snapped at him. The conversation ended when Cas shoved Dean down over the bathroom sink, fucking him so hard Dean's forehead smacked into the mirror a few times.
Dean wasn't complaining so much as he wanted to know if anything was going on in Cas' mind. He was concerned about Cas, almost to the point of being clingy, and even though Cas had warned him clingy wouldn't be tolerated, Dean had a way of sneaking in when Cas wasn't looking.
Cas didn’t think Dean had really gotten over everything that had happened in the last few months either. It was weighing on his mind, but Dean brushed him off whenever he tried to bring it up.
"I've shown you lots of cases," Dean said, flapping his right hand at Cas' monitor. "You rejected them all."
"You've shown me nothing but cases where the victims were raped," Cas said, then shook his head. "I'm not taking them."
Dean frowned. "Okay, so I’ve been meaning to ask. What's so different with taking a case like that when you fucked Benny in the basement? He was raped by his captors. You took him on knowing it was a rape case when you said yes to him."
"We already discussed that," Cas said, pushing the manila folder back toward Dean. He still wasn’t interested.
"But you wore a condom," Dean said, leaning forward and taking the folder back. He set the folder on his lap and pinned Cas with a look. "For all intents and purposes, you raped him. He didn't want it, not really, and he wasn't a murderer or rapist himself. He was a victim in the whole thing."
"The difference is I know he's clean," Cas said, turning to Dean again. "Even wearing a condom, I can still catch things from the people I'm Cleaning, especially if there’s any violence involved that could break the condom. Benny hadn't been with anyone but his girlfriend since he was taken, and even then he tried to eat her out and couldn't bring himself to fuck her. He had extensive testing done after he was dropped off at the emergency room. Several tests were done over the years, and all of them were clean."
"So it's not really a moral issue," Dean said, and even though he could have had a problem with it, he didn't seem to. He just appeared genuinely curious.
"No, it was never a moral issue for me," Cas said, shaking his head. "If someone is going to do that to another human being, they should be prepared to have it done to them, just like everyone else I've cleaned who has suffered the same fate as their victims."
"So you probably don't want me doing it," Dean said instead of asking.
"No." He left no room for interpretation. It was a firm no.
"And you already know I'm clean, which is why you fuck me," Dean said, grinning.
"You and every partner you've had in the last ten years has been clean," Cas said, "and you used condoms even though you were in a long-term relationship with two of those people."
Dean didn't flinch at the intimate knowledge. He'd never told Cas that information, but Cas had done his research, and he could see by the way Dean looked down and to the left he was surprised by how much Cas knew, but wasn’t uncomfortable with it.
"Why not use a dildo?" Dean asked, recovering quickly, as he usually did when it came to Cas. "You could even use a strap-on. Put it on over your jeans and they probably wouldn't care about the difference. It's the same violation they used on others."
"You wouldn't notice the difference between my dick and a strap-on?" Cas asked, pulling a face.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah, I would because I've had your dick up my ass plenty of times. Anybody who has had a real dick up their ass would probably know. But if the killer is some guy who has never taken it up the ass, he wouldn't know. And maybe even if he did know, he wouldn’t care. He'd be too busy freaking out over you shoving something in his ass. It’s all about the violation, right?"
Cas was tired of talking, and Dean's hair was still wet from the shower he'd taken before he joined Cas in the office, all squeaky clean and smelling good.
"Come here," Cas said, waving Dean over.
Dean's eyes widened. "I wasn't trying to piss you off," he said, shaking his head and pulling away just a little even though there was a desk between them.
"Come over here now," Cas said, lowering his voice. His cock twitched as Dean immediately stood up, his pants loose and hanging low as he walked around the desk. Cas rolled his chair back before pointing at the desk. "Bend over."
Dean checked Cas' hands before glancing at the desk, and Cas knew Dean was looking for a kitchen utensil or ruler. Something Cas might use to smack his ass.
Dean was taking too long, so Cas grabbed Dean's hips and yanked him closer, pushing him against the edge of the desk, facing away from him.
"Okay, okay, I'm going," Dean said, chuckling even though he sounded a little nervous.
Dean didn’t really like getting his ass smacked. He did, however, say he liked the way Cas could come from just listening to him crying out, just from feeling Dean squirm against him.
Cas slowly pulled the pants down, revealing Dean's ass inch by inch. There were tiny indentations right in the middle of Dean's left ass cheek, put there that morning by Cas when he'd bitten Dean hard enough to break the skin.
Dean had made the most exquisite noise of surprise and pain when Cas had bitten down on the soft, delicate skin, his body shivering beneath Cas as he dealt with the pain.
Cas smiled fondly, remembering it as he leaned forward and ran his tongue over the indentations. He rubbed his lips over the divots as well, enjoying the smell of Dean’s spit-wet skin. He let the pants fall down around Dean's ankles and sat back, enjoying the view for a moment.
"Go ahead and relax. You're going to be there a while," Cas said as he reached around Dean to push his keyboard out of the way.
Dean put his chest and stomach down on the desk, using his arms as a pillow for his head. His ass cheeks were clenched, and it was kind of cute that he was on guard like that, unsure of what Cas was going to do to him.
Cas pulled Dean's ass cheeks apart and blew over his hole, smiling when Dean shivered. He leaned forward and pressed the flat of his tongue against Dean's asshole, closing his eyes and wiggling his tongue.
"Mmm, Cas, yeah," Dean moaned, his body finally relaxing on the desk, his legs spreading a bit as he tilted his ass up, wanting more.
Cas took his time. He was in no real hurry to get either of them off, and instead he just enjoyed the way Dean whimpered and gasped, arched against him, fucked forward, wiggled, and pushed his hips against the desk, searching for stimulation for his cock.
Soon Dean’s hole was dripping with spit, and Cas pushed his tongue inside as far as he could, humming. Dean cried out, pushing his ass back against Cas.
"Fuck, Cas, yeah! C'mon, suck my hole," Dean said, voice deep with arousal.
Cas brought his hand down on Dean's right ass cheek, and a satisfyingly sharp smack had Dean flinching.
"Ah, fuck, sorry! Suck my hole, please," Dean said, deciding it would be better to beg instead of demand. He’d always been a quick study. "Please! Please, suck my hole, Cas. Love it when you do that. Feels so fuckin' good. Please!"
Cas rested his right hand over the freshly-smacked skin of Dean’s ass, feeling the warmth radiating from him. He rewarded Dean for being good for him by sucking and wriggling his tongue over and around Dean’s hole. He varied the pressure and pace, leaving Dean to guess what would happen next before using teeth on the sensitive skin.
"Hey!" Dean yelped, but then he was moaning again as Cas licked his hole with broad swipes of his tongue. Up and down, back and forth. Over and over again as Dean gasped and squirmed.
Cas opened the drawer to his right and pulled out a bottle of lube, slicking his fingers while still licking Dean’s hole. He sat back, spit dribbling down Dean's crack and over the back of his balls. He pushed his right middle and ring fingers in, finding Dean's prostate and rubbing hard.
"Ah! Cas, fuck, warn a guy, would you?" Dean grunted, but he wasn't really complaining. Not if the tilting of his hips and the breathiness of his voice were anything to go by.
Cas rubbed faster over Dean's prostate, fingers squelching through the lube. Dean whimpered, breathing heavily with his hands balled into fists as he moved to prop himself up on his forearms.
"Flat on the desk," Cas said.
Dean made a noise of protest, but did as he was told, lying down flat on the desk again. Cas sucked kisses into Dean's right ass cheek, nipping at him as he reached between Dean's legs with his free hand and stroked his cock.
Not thirty seconds later, Dean was whimpering. "Cas, I'm gonna come," he said with not a little bit of panic in his voice. "I'm gonna come on your floor!"
Okay, so maybe Cas was a little particular about the hardwood flooring in his home. And maybe he'd spanked Dean last time Dean missed and came all over the floor. He hadn’t even made Dean cry when he’d spanked him for it. It was more for fun than actual punishment anyway, but Dean seemed worried nonetheless.
"Cas! Gimme a tissue or something! I'm gonna come on the floor! Dude!" Dean said, starting to stand up.
"Chest on the desk or you don't get to come until after we’re done with the next case," Cas warned.
Dean whimpered, settling down and preparing himself for whatever Cas would do to him for coming all over the floor. He could’ve gotten away if he wanted to, but he must have considered his options and decided that what he was feeling would be worth it in the end.
"Fuck, Cas. Oh, fuck!"
Cas stroked his cock with his left hand and rubbed his prostate with his right index and middle fingers, Dean clenching around him as his orgasm hit, Dean’s cock jerking in his hand as Dean’s pink, stretched asshole spasmed around his fingers.
He watched as Dean’s thighs shook, the way he squirmed against the desk as he moaned his way through his orgasm. Dean had a small scar just above his right butt cheek, and Cas watched the skin move as Dean twisted and squirmed. He’d licked over that scar plenty of times in the past.
Once Dean settled, Cas pulled his fingers out and flicked Dean's rim.
"Hey!" Dean yelped, standing up straight, hands reaching back to cover his sensitive hole.
"Lick it up," Cas said, rolling his chair back a few inches and gesturing to the floor with his lube-wet hand.
"Aww, man," Dean whined, but got to his hands and knees without hesitating. He looked down at the floor before looking up at Cas. "Do I have to?"
"Yes," Cas said, getting comfortable on his chair so he could watch the show, resting his forearms on the arms of the chair, but keeping his hands away so he didn’t get lube all over the chair.
Dean's pants were around his ankles, and his T-shirt was loose, riding up a little as he curled over and licked the floor clean, letting out adorably pathetic sounds of disgust as he did it.
Just as Dean finished and started to straighten up, Cas grabbed his head with both hands, only slightly amused that he was getting lube in Dean’s hair, and he pushed Dean's face into his crotch.
"Suck it," Cas said, letting go of Dean's head with his right hand so he could pull his cock out of his pants and push it into Dean's mouth.
Dean opened his mouth, taking as much as he could before his gag reflex kicked in. His eyes watered and his throat spasmed as he tried to control his body, Cas directing the blowjob with both hands gripping Dean's head. Dean let him without protest.
Every time Dean choked around his cock, tears running down his cheeks, Cas got that much closer to coming. Cas let him catch his breath a few times, and as Cas was just about to come, he let Dean take a breath before pushing his head down hard, holding him as Dean's body fought the intrusion, trying to breathe around Cas' cock.
Dean grunted and gagged, hands on Cas' thighs, but he wasn't trying to push away. He was being good for Cas even though his lungs had to be burning, his jaw sore, and his throat aching.
Cas bucked up, shoving his cock even further down Dean's throat as he came, grunting and holding Dean’s head a little too tightly as Dean gagged harder and drooled around Cas’ cock.
He finally let go of Dean's head, and Dean pulled back, coughing and catching his breath, eyes watering and come dripping down his chin even though he was trying his best to swallow.
Cas gave Dean a moment to compose himself before he ran his fingers through Dean's hair, smiling at him. Dean looked good on his knees with lube-streaked hair, red-rimmed and wet eyes, a wet nose, and puffy lips. He was beautiful.
"I take it you didn't want to talk about the cases anymore," Dean said, voice rough, although he was smiling and quite obviously sated from his own orgasm.
Cas chuckled lazily. "I was done, yes."
Dean closed his eyes and rested his head on Cas' knee. "Yeah, I gathered that."
~ + ~
Cas sighed when he heard the doorbell ring. He knew who it was, and he wasn’t really looking forward to anyone coming over to the house.
He’d been perfectly happy sitting at his desk, browsing the internet and looking for a new butt plug for Dean. There were so many options, and he was close to figuring out whether he wanted a puppy tail or a rainbow unicorn tail when the doorbell rang.
Earlier that morning Dean asked him if Sam and Jess could come over to talk to them about a case.
Cas questioned him as to why Sam and Jess hadn't asked him themselves, but Dean just smirked, saying something about Cas not liking surprises, and talking on the phone wasn't all that welcome either, so they'd used Dean as their spokesperson.
He heard Dean letting them in the front door as he came out of his office and headed through the kitchen, into the living room. He tried not to smile as Sam caught sight of him and fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other just at the thought of discussing something with Cas.
"Have a seat," Cas said, gesturing toward the couch.
He nearly chuckled out loud when Sam quickly took a seat exactly where Cas pointed. Jess sat on the loveseat to the left of the couch, and Dean flopped down into the overstuffed chair across from the couch, tossing his legs up over the arm of the chair.
Sam was holding a manila envelope against his chest, and it reminded Cas of Benny when he’d met him not that long ago on his front porch. How Benny held the folder tightly to his chest almost like a shield or maybe something precious that he didn’t want taken away.
He wasn't sure why Sam was so nervous, especially after the two dinners they'd had as a family and several movie nights Sam and Jess joined them for over the last few months.
"You don't have to take this," Sam said, cutting out the pleasantries he usually started with. He’d learned Cas didn’t like that, and Sam was adaptable. That was a good thing.
"I know," Cas said with a nod, walking up to the couch and holding his hand out for the folder.
Sam gave him a tight smile as he handed him the folder. "You'd have to go undercover. With me."
Dean snorted, and when Cas looked up at him, Dean smiled innocently.
"Why you?" Cas asked as he sat down on the second overstuffed chair to the left of Dean, across from the couch. "Dean is more than capable of going undercover with me."
Sam looked down at his lap for a moment, and Cas had a feeling Sam was gathering his courage. The way Sam's eyes narrowed and his eyebrows pulled together just a little bit when he was nervous or worried was kind of adorable. A worried puppy.
Maybe he should get the dog tail butt plug for Sam and give it to Jess. She’d probably love it, and it would be great to watch Sam try and thank him for it. Dean would definitely look better with the rainbow unicorn tail anyway. It would be easy to get him to swish it around as he walked, wagging his ass around.
There was the possibility Sam already had a puppy butt plug. Jess was kinky, and Sam never had a chance at being “normal” anyway. His baggy jeans could be hiding a lot, as could his oversized button-down shirt. The worn-out sneakers matched the sullen teenager look, but maybe it was better for hiding things like puppy tails.
Cas dismissed the images in his head and brought himself back to the room. When Sam looked him in the eye again, there was confidence there. Cas definitely took notice, and it made him more willing to listen to what Sam had to say.
"It's my case,” Sam said firmly. “I've been following the smaller cases surrounding it for almost three years now. I know more than anybody else at the CON about it, and I've interviewed the victims that survived. Also, I look a lot more like a stuffy businessman than Dean does, which is what a lot of the victims were."
Cas opened the folder and pulled out a stack of papers and pictures. Sam did look more stuffy than Dean, but he wasn’t sure why that was a factor. Even if a lot of the victims had a stick up their ass, what did that have to do with anything?
"Give me more details,” Cas said, already reading through the papers. “You can talk while I read."
"Multitasking isn't a problem for him," Dean said to Sam. "In fact, he works better the more you can throw at him."
Sam nodded. "Okay, well, about three years ago a man named Daniel stumbled into a hospital emergency room in Las Vegas. He was bruised and bleeding. There were burns around his neck, his wrists were abraded, he'd been raped and-"
"I don't do rape cases," Cas said as he set the papers and photos down on his lap, focusing his attention on Sam instead.
Sam held his hands up in surrender. "Just hear me out. Dean's told me about everything you will and won't do, but I'm sure you'll be okay with this if you just let me finish. The people at the top, the ones I want to take down, aren’t the ones that rape the victims. Or at least that’s not what they do to everybody. They may have their own abuse victims."
Cas nodded, picking the papers up and leafing through them again. "Go on."
"Daniel finally admitted the sex had been consensual at first," Sam continued. "He'd been in the BDSM community for almost fifteen years, and he knew there was a stigma surrounding it, so he wasn't truthful with the doctors when they first got his story."
"He played in Las Vegas?" Cas asked as he found a collage of pictures, the name Daniel Riley in the bottom right corner along with his date of birth.
The photos showed the front and back of his body, then close-ups of various deeper bruises and injuries. The man was covered in bruises, some that were appropriate for heavy BDSM play, but others really weren't.
Someone had hit the man's left lower back hard enough that Daniel's kidney had most likely been damaged. There were other bruises and abrasions in areas that just shouldn't have been hit that hard, like near his spine and tailbone
"No, he lived and played in New York," Sam said. "He was born and raised there, but started playing with a man named Ron. Daniel never learned Ron's last name, but they played for about two months, meeting every weekend at a club near Daniel's apartment complex."
Cas found the medical report. Daniel had almost lost his kidney. He had to be catheterized because of the severe bladder infection, and two of his fingers had been broken.
The burns on Daniel’s neck were from electricity, which Daniel claimed had been punishment for things he’d done wrong. He described a collar around his neck with a remote that Ron and others controlled.
"Ron finally convinced Daniel they should try a heavier scene with sensory deprivation," Sam continued. "Daniel remembers being blindfolded and bound to a bench, then he heard other people coming into the room. He used his safeword because he'd never agreed to more than one partner at a time, but soon after he felt a sharp sting just above his left buttock. He doesn't remember anything after that until he was sold."
Cas held up a paper with rough sketches on it. There were tools and numbers, a box with the word Dionysus carved into the side of it, and a list of five names: Oakley, Wilson, Tegert, Miller, and Rollins.
"Sold?" Cas asked, glancing up at Sam.
"Yeah. The next few months were basically torture," Sam said, sighing. "He was sold to someone who lived out of the country, and he was kept as a sex slave in a large mansion. Daniel wasn't sure, but he thought it may have been France, given the majority of the visitors had a French accent, but there was a wide variety of abusers. He was used as a party favor."
Cas found another sketch, this time of a building. He didn't think it was the mansion Sam was talking about, but it might have been another person’s extravagant home. Lots of money was involved, that was for sure.
"Once that owner was done with him, Daniel was sold again," Sam said. "The new owner took him back to the United States, and they frequented clubs. Daniel tried to ask people in the clubs to help him, but people either thought he was in the middle of a scene or just plain told him to shut up."
Cas looked up at Sam. “Were there others at the clubs who were in on the slavery or did he take Daniel to clubs that were specifically slaver-clubs? Any decent club, any decent dom wouldn’t dismiss a sub like that. They’ll even question subs that aren’t complaining if they get the sense things aren’t completely consensual."
"We don't know," Sam said. "That's part of the reason we need to go undercover. We need to go in as a master-slash-slave couple or a dedicated play couple. I wrote in my report that any other combination leaves them vulnerable to being kidnapped and sold, especially a single sub going in. Not only that, but the couple needs to know each other, and the dom can't be too sadistic and kill the sub quickly or so lenient that it's obvious they don't deserve a sub."
"Deserve?" Cas asked, frowning as he looked down at the papers.
"Apparently the second master Daniel had wasn't strict enough and there was a challenge, which he lost," Sam said, then winced. "Daniel went to a third owner who was much worse than the first and second."
"The deep bruising was from the third owner?" Cas asked as he skimmed a police report about another man who had been abused and left for dead behind a convenience store.
"Yes," Sam said, then leaned forward and pointed at the paper Cas was reading. "It was rumored Daniel's owner was responsible for this guy named Tau. He didn't think Tau would make it, and he used that against Daniel, telling him he'd already killed one slave, he could kill another without breaking a sweat."
Cas looked over the pictures attached to Tau's physical assessment. Tau had lost a lot of blood, one of his kidneys had to be removed, and the infection in his left leg was too severe to save it. It had to be amputated below the knee, and he was on IV antibiotics for several weeks.
He was malnourished and had four separate sexually transmitted diseases at once. The man barely made it through his ordeal, and he would have many lasting scars.
"You want me to take you into this environment?" Cas asked, squinting at Sam.
"Sam, this is ridiculous," Dean said, a scowl on his face. "You didn't tell me it was this bad."
"I'm not finished yet," Sam said.
"I wasn't happy about it either," Jess said, scooting forward on the seat cushion. "I talked with Meg about it, just in case she knew something about it. She's been to a few of the clubs and played. She said a capable dom and sub team will be fairly safe. The problem is there are a lot of kidnapped people being sold as slaves, and doms who want to keep a certain level of professionalism."
Cas held up the collage of photos. "This isn't professionalism."
Jess nodded. "I know. I'm just telling you what Meg said. She also said there's a thriving black market in the clubs. Anything you want, as long as you can afford it, you can get it."
Cas huffed out a laugh as he looked at Sam. "And you think you're going to bring this entire operation down? That's not possible. Not with just the two of us."
"That brings us to the other reason it needs to be you and me," Sam said, rubbing his palms on his jeans. It was a nervous gesture Cas recognized. Sam used the same gesture after coming out of the basement weeks ago. "This isn't as massive as it sounds, it's just spread out over multiple countries and is run and populated by serial killers."
"Fuck no!" Dean said, shaking his head. "No. Absolutely not. No!"
Sam looked up at Dean. "You think I'm not scared out of my fucking mind? Of course I am, but I think we can do it."
"Cas, you can't say yes to this," Dean said, crossing his arms over his chest. "This is insane. Tell my idiot brother this is insane and you're not going to do this."
"Why do you think we can do it?" Cas asked, looking at Sam.
"No," Dean said, waving his hands in the air. "You don't get to ignore me on this. This isn't gonna happen."
"Dean," Cas said, voice low.
Sam took a cleansing breath. "I know you're in the lifestyle. That's already a huge plus."
"No, I'm not going to let you bully me into agreeing to this," Dean said, shaking his head.
"I haven't said yes," Cas said, then held up the stack of papers. "This is a case where there’s obviously rape involved. Not only that, but I'd be walking in with a civilian who stinks of vanilla and heterosexual. I'm not taking this based on what I've heard so far, and Sam's going to have to do a hell of a lot of convincing before I change my mind."
Dean hesitated, but finally leaned back in the chair, obviously not happy about it, but willing to hear everybody out.
Cas looked at Jess. "He's your husband. Tell me what convinced you to let him do this."
Jess glanced at Sam, then looked Cas in the eye. "To tell you the truth, I kind of want you to say no," she said, then held up a hand when Sam started to protest. "A lot can happen to you," she said as she turned to look at her husband. "I'm not saying you're incapable. I'm saying this is a big deal. I don't want Cas or Dean to do it either. I know Cas would do his best to keep you safe, but this is different than what any of us normally do," she said, shaking her head.
"I've been following this case for three years," Sam said, and by the tone of his voice, it wasn't the first or even the tenth time he'd said it.
"I know that," Jess said gently. "You and Cas would probably make an amazing team. I don't doubt you or Cas. In fact, given the CON's entire roster currently, I'd pick you and Cas to do this over everybody else if I didn't love the two of you."
Cas chose to ignore the declaration of love. For the moment, anyway.
"This isn't convincing me," Cas said, shrugging. "And you still haven't told me why you let him come over here in the first place to present this to me."
Jess' breath caught in her chest and she looked down at her lap. She took a few moments to gather herself, then she looked Cas in the eye. "He really wants it."
Dean huffed. "That's your reason?"
"I know that look," Jess said, gesturing to Sam, a small smile on her face. "He's determined. He thinks he's got the place and people figured out. It's not the first time he's helped on a case, and he's good. He's really fucking good. I want him to do it if this is what he really wants, I'm just scared and completely selfish saying I don't want you to go."
"You're allowed to be selfish," Dean grumbled. "Especially if it means he's going to get himself killed."
"Letting them go in isn’t a death sentence, though," Jess said, shaking her head. "It’s a risk."
"A big one," Dean said.
“No,” Jess said, shaking her head. “Cas has experience in clubs. He’s a top level Cleaner. If any of the higher ups in this organization see him playing, they’ll probably invite him into any special areas they have. He’s a serial killer himself, so we don’t have to worry about him fitting in with the rest of them.”
“And Sam?” Dean asked. It was a challenge.
Jess turned to look at Sam. There was a question in her eyes, but Cas couldn’t figure out what it was. Sam gave her a small smile and ducked his head. Whatever it was, he said yes.
Jess looked Cas in the eye. “He’s not as vanilla as you think he is.”
Dean let out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a squawk of protest. “You two getting a little kinky in the bedroom doesn’t mean he can walk into a BDSM club run by serial killers and fit in!”
“Cas?” Jess said, tilting her head a bit. “What do you get off him? You have a feeling for people. You may not be good at reading emotions, and you suck at regular human behavior, but you’re good at reading stuff like this. When you’re around him, how do you feel about him?”
Cas looked at Sam. Really looked at him. He remembered the first time he met the guy. He remembered the night Sam was in the SUV as they brought Dean home from the cabin in the woods. He remembered the initial urge he had, and the same ones he’d had ever since he saw Sam.
He hadn’t examined it very closely, because Sam wasn’t really his type. Aesthetically he had an appeal, but his personality just wasn’t Cas’ thing at all. Not for anything more than some short-term observational fun, and that would’ve never been an option given that he was Dean’s brother.
Cas sighed. “A sadistic dom would love taking him apart inch by inch.”
Sam blushed even as Dean let out a disgusted huff.
“Are you kidding me?” Dean said, voice louder than it really needed to be. He was upset, but Cas wasn’t sure why.
“There’s an earnest vulnerability in his eyes and in the way he holds himself, how he moves that says he would be eager to please, tough to break, but very well worth it.”
Dean went quiet and still, but didn’t say anything else.
“Meg says the same thing,” Jess said softly.
“Wait. What?” Sam asked, eyes wide.
“I think he could be a good partner,” Jess said confidently. “He can take a lot of what you’d dish out in order to get noticed or at least accepted at the club. He’s smart. He isn’t impulsive. He thinks before he speaks. He would trust you to take the lead, but he wouldn’t hesitate to step up if something happened or you told him to.”
Cas thought about it for a moment. Everything she said fit what he felt when he was around Sam. What he saw in his interactions with those around him. The guy was taller and bigger than most subs, but Cas knew that meant nothing. If anything, it would be a pleasant surprise to anyone who had preconceived notions about submissives.
Cas looked Sam in the eye. “Are you ready to stand there quietly while someone is killed? An innocent? Are you ready to let people be beaten and sold and bought and branded right in front of you? Ready to listen to them scream and gurgle and bleed out as they die?”
Sam swallowed hard, ran his right hand through his hair, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Yes. I’m not going to like it, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to watch or even come out of this without having nightmares, but I can see the bigger picture. It’s why I want to take them down. This isn’t about a single bad dom or a corrupt, hole-in-the-wall club. The people running this need to be stopped, and it’ll have a chain reaction. No place to buy, sell, trade? It’ll be tougher for members to replace subs they’ve killed, and if we get in there deep enough, hit hard enough, it’ll be a deterrent for anybody else thinking they can do shit like this.”
"He wants it,” Jess said. “This isn’t some new case that dropped in his lap. He’s been gathering information on it for years. I support him, especially if you’re going in with him and Dean and I can be your Handlers. The four of us working from the inside and out can do this. I know we can."
"It's your case," Cas said, looking at Sam. He could see the fire in Sam's eyes. "This is the one?"
Sam gave him a small smile, realizing Cas got it. "Yeah."
"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, frowning. "Of course it's his case."
Cas met Dean's gaze. "It's his Cassettes case."
"Cassettes?" Jess asked.
Dean opened his mouth, ready to argue, then visibly deflated as he turned to look at Sam. "Why? Why does this one have to be it? The case that keeps you up at night and you daydream about? The case that makes your career?" he asked, not nearly as much power behind his voice as he'd had before. He’d already accepted it.
"Dean, I know this case," Sam said, pointing at the stack of papers on Cas’ lap. "I've interviewed the survivors. I've followed cases that appeared to be linked. I've done research on the BDSM lifestyle. I've-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean said, then shook his head. "You've done research? You think you can just walk into these clubs after reading up on BDSM? You’ve never been in one?"
"We’ve played with some of the basics, so I’m not a complete newbie,” Sam said, gesturing to Jess, “and Cas will be there with me. I trust him to lead us, and he'll have full decision-making powers and full control of me. I'm giving him permission to do and say anything he wants, which means even if I fuck up, the shitheads running these places will see Cas taking me to task on my fuck-ups. He knows how to fit in with them. He’s damn near one of them anyway."
"Meg said a lot of it is consensual, and there are newbies there too," Jess added. "The buying and selling of kidnapped slaves isn't consensual, of course, but there are plenty of twenty-four-seven slaves who are there willingly. The clubs are clean and very careful about their equipment. Meg wouldn't have gone otherwise."
"Would Meg be willing to talk with me?" Cas asked.
"I can ask," Jess said, nodding. "I don't think she'll have a problem with it, but she might push a few of your buttons just for fun. I'd like to ask ahead of time that you don't try to kill her and instead just walk away if she pushes too much. I mesh with her really well, and I'd hate to lose her."
"I can't guarantee it, but I'll try," Cas said, shrugging.
"I want Jess and I to be kept in the loop," Dean said. "I want Meg helping too."
Cas nodded. "Of course you'll all be involved. We're good teams, and having you as contacts and running this like a team combo will make this case go much more smoothly," he said, then shook his head, "but Meg isn’t part of it."
"No, you don't get to override this one. I let you do a lot. A hell of a lot," Dean said, pausing so the message really had a chance to penetrate. "I'm not asking. I'm telling you this is going to involve Meg. She’s the only one who has been to these clubs. She knows the players. She’s a professional and won’t compromise the case. I can’t stand her, but she’s a huge asset here."
Cas took it in, thinking it through, then nodded. "Okay. You're right. Meg's already been inside, and if we need help, it’s a good idea to have her on board from the beginning. Just stay away from her."
Dean rolled his eyes. “She’s not going to kill me. Jess will keep her on track, right?”
Jess smiled. “I’ll try.”
“So we’re doing this," Dean said, and he didn’t appear as miserable saying it as Cas thought he would.
"I still didn't say yes," Cas said.
Dean huffed. "You're doing it. I already know you're doing it. The only cases open right now are rape cases, and if you don’t find something that keeps your attention for more than five minutes, you’re going to get restless. This is a big challenge, and I can see by the look on your face you're going to do it."
Cas held up one of the papers from the stack on his lap. This is a photocopy of a contract one of the victims hid inside herself when she escaped. I want to talk with Meg and make sure it's legitimate. If not, my answer is no."
"What's so special about the contract?" Dean asked, leaning over and trying to get a look at the contract.
"It says the owner has absolute control over their slave," Cas said, handing the photocopy to Dean. "If the owner is seen as unfit, they go up for review. Five members of the association have to declare the owner unfit before the slave can be taken away. If I don't have that complete ownership over Sam as a sub or slave, I'm not taking him in. I need to know that there's mutual respect there, even in the black market areas. That no one else will touch him without my permission, and that any challenge to my ability to own him would be peer reviewed instead of just some kind of shouting or physical match between me and some asshole."
"They're buying and selling slaves," Jess said, eyes widening. "What makes you think they care about a contract?"
"Every society has its rules," Dean said, still looking over the contract. "There's an order and a set of morals, even if it's not the morals you personally like or agree with. If this contract is real and enforced, then Sam should be safe with Cas as long as he shows himself capable of handling him."
"How do you know what's required?" Jess asked, a bit of hope in her voice. "Maybe they have rules you don't know about and they'll find you incompetent because he, I don't know, looked at somebody the wrong way."
Cas shook his head. "I don’t think so. We're talking about people who kill without giving it a second thought, yet they're working together and meeting together in established clubs. If it was complete anarchy, those clubs wouldn't have lasted a month. Imagine me taking Dean into the club for fun," he said, gesturing to Dean. “Now imagine me constantly on edge, thinking someone was going to touch my property."
"Property," Dean said under his breath, shaking his head, but almost amused.
"That's the way they think," Cas said patiently. "And if this was a constant threat, something I had to worry about, there would be a lot of dead club members. That’s if I went to the club at all."
"Meg said they're territorial," Jess said, nodding. "There's a pecking order, but not many levels. There are those that own and run the clubs, but even they're considered members too. They're under the same rules."
"If this is so orderly and neat," Dean said, "then why are you guys going in? Maybe you should be focusing on the ones who left victims behind. Maybe the buying and selling aspect is consensual, but some of the buyers are rogue sadistic fucks."
Sam took the papers from Cas and pulled out a picture, setting it on the table. "I'm not going after the entire organization. That’s too many people," he said, tapping the picture. "I'm going after the people involved in the black market auctions, because they’re the ones that run it all. They have to know what’s going on, and with the number of victims, I can’t imagine they’d continue doing it and just be like, ‘oops yeah some of these guys keep killing our slaves.’"
Cas recognized the symbol in the picture. He'd seen it before on a case years ago. A small circle with a stylized tail coming out the top and flowing away and down, splitting into three tails that had spiked ends. The symbol for Leo with embellishment that could have easily been mistaken for something whimsical, but was actually a three-tailed whip.
"Is that a brand?" Dean asked, wincing.
"Yes," Cas said, nodding. "It's given to the kidnapped slaves."
"It was kept from the press," Sam said.
Dean tensed. "Don't even think about-"
"I'm not getting the brand," Sam said, shaking his head. "Only the slaves sold at auction get the brand. Cas will own me or I'll be his sub, but I won't be considered a kidnapped and sold slave."
"I'd like to get in touch with Meg as soon as possible," Cas said to Jess.
Jess pulled out her cell phone. "I'll text her. She’ll probably get back to me right away."
"I want to read through all the information," Dean said softly, staring at the picture on the coffee table.
Cas gave all the papers on his lap over to his Handler. He and Jess were already in Handler mode, and it settled something in Cas’ stomach to see them begin.