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