The long day ended with the guards allowing him to return to the cabin instead of the prison cell, the chains still attached to his wrists as he was carelessly kicked up the stairs and through the doorway where he stumbled into Shadson. The man gripped him tightly, keeping him on his feet, and the moment the guards left, he pulled back, straightening Dean's collar almost as an afterthought before Dean was turning to Mills.

"I need to get to Cas' cabin," Dean whispered, the desperation in his voice pulling out a sad look from her. Nevertheless, she nodded, turning to Shadson and giving him a hesitant smile. The man rolled his eyes at the obvious question and held his finger up for them to give him a moment before he glanced over to the guard, sitting on the bed as they waited to be called out for dinner.

"Night time," He promised softly, and Dean's throat clenched as he nodded, waiting for the inevitable sinking of the sun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night felt strange as he watched Shadson disappear underneath one of the beds, just a wriggling form against the darkness before all movement ceased and he seemed to vanish. They had placed the sheets strategically to look like someone was sleeping there, a small lump around the size of Mills that sufficed when the guards glanced in, then continued onto their business as if nothing was wrong.

Shadson appeared around five minutes later, a layer of dust all over him and his eyes glowing with a bit of cleverness, "I loosened the plank underneath the cabin. Stay in the shadows, and you'll find a plank that is sticking out. It'll get you in under one of the beds," He offered quietly, his eyes narrowed with thought as he recounted the details. Dean arched one eyebrow, impressed with the man, but said nothing else as he nodded, crouching down and sliding underneath the bed.

There wasn't a lot of room under the beds, maybe enough for a man to sit and fold in on himself, but it didn't take him long to find the plank that had been pulled up, revealing the dark dirt underneath. He slid in, wrinkling his nose at the cold, almost damp feeling of the soft earth before crawling his way to the back of the cabin, where there was a missing wood piece that blocked the underneath from the outside world.

The air felt thick with tension when he finally got out, raising his head and glancing this way and that before slipping towards the cabin where Castiel stayed. The guards stood at each cabin, but none noticed the small shadow that slipped across the sliver of open area between each one, his body kept low to blend in easier with the shadows.

The building felt much darker and more sinister than Dean had remembered, a tingle in his spine that warned him to run as he crept closer. A warning that he blatantly ignored as he found the loose plank that the man had been talking about, carefully getting his fingers around one edge and wriggling it off before slipping underneath the building and putting it back the best he could so it seemed inconspicuous to any glancing eyes.

The wood flooring was easy to find the loose piece, half of it already hanging down and exposing the barely visible metal of the bed frame above it. He tugged a bit harder than he did with the wood plank, only a slight creak escaping the wood before it fell to the ground almost silently in the soft dirt. 

Once inside, he could hear the whispers of Winters and Letts, and the soft cries of a voice he knew very well. It sent with a sense of panic, and he found himself wriggling out from under the bed, ignoring the shocked looks in the other soldiers' eyes as he turned, looking for Castiel.

He was curled on a bed, pressed against the corner of the building as if he were trying to hide. The bandage around his eyes was removed, and Dean could see the speckle of tears as they caught what little moonlight there was, bringing a pain in Dean's heart that hit him like a bag full of bricks.

"Cas?" Dean whispered softly, reaching out and just letting his fingers brush the man's arms. Castiel jerked away, his efforts to keep his voice down causing his breaths to come out ragged, almost as if he were constantly trying to sniff.

"Cas. It's Dean," Dean whispered, pulling himself onto the bed slowly and as easily as possible so he didn't freak the man out. Castiel's face flooded with recognition, overtaking the fear just momentarily before he reached out, touching Dean's face gently as if scared this was all just an elaborate plan to screw with him.

"D-Dean," Castiel whispered, that single word holding so much emotion in it that it left Dean speechless. There was so much pain, yet happiness at the same time and he reached out again, guiding Castiel to his arms and holding him tightly, Castiel's frozen hands leaving his cheek and clutching his clothes tightly instead.

"What happened?" Dean asked softly, his eyes darting out to take in the other soldiers. Barneson had already laid down, the stiffness of his back and the way his hands clasped over his ears revealing that he was indeed still awake. Winters and Letts stood by the bed farthest from Castiel, staring at them with surprise and...guilt?

"They f-forced me to..." Castiel trailed off, his crying getting stronger as Dean's eyes widened, his hands moving to Castiel's back where he gently pressed along the lower portion, his eyes seething with anger when the soldier flinched against him.

"Which guard did it to you?" Dean asked, his voice carrying a deep growl. He was going to kill them. He didn't care if he got shot, or locked up, he was going to make sure the one that did this to Castiel was never going to see the light of day again.

"It wasn't...a guard," Castiel whispered, making Dean freeze. His eyes turned lividly to the men standing as far away from them as possible. The men who had guilt in their eyes, and shame and fear written across their features as Dean's gaze caught their glances.

"What...did you do?" Dean barely managed to get out in his rage, his voice struggling to stay quiet enough that the guards wouldn't be alerted to his presence there. Winters looked down, not opening his mouth, while Letts struggled to find something to say.

"It was either do it or die," Letts finally managed to get out, his brows creasing with the horror that crossed his face. It was obvious that he hadn't wanted to do it, but that did not excuse him in Dean's book, "We've...we've been forced to take turns...The guards...we have no choice..."

"You always have a choice," Dean growled, his hold on Castiel growing a bit tighter subconsciously. He doubted he would ever be able to let go after this.

"Look, choice or no choice, you have to leave," Winters finally interjected, raising his head and meeting Dean's gaze, though it held a clear apologetic tone that made his eyes seem almost black in the night, "They'll be coming back tonight, and if we don't do it..."

"Fuck you!" Dean hissed, his eyes darting between the two of them as if daring them to take a step closer. He heard the shifting of Barneson, and when he looked over, the man was staring at him, obvious discomfort on his face.

"Winchester, you'll get him killed if you are caught here," He said, his face looking much more worn than Dean remembered, "So unless you have a plan to take his place, you have to leave."

Dean stared at the man, then glanced down at Castiel, who had quieted during the entire ordeal. The man looked broken, but still, his eyes flashed with the knowledge of what was to come, and Dean leaned down, gently kissing his forehead and taking in the smell of him that underlied all the scents of the camp before letting go.

"Get under the bed, Cas. You can hide there until they're done," Dean whispered, shifting and removing himself from Castiel, standing up and facing the other soldiers. Castiel let out a sharp intake of breath and his hands searched out Dean, touching his back and arm before he found his hand.

"No, please," Castiel whispered, and Dean took a deep breath, preparing himself as he turned and squeezed Castiel's hand gently, a reassurance that meant nothing in this circumstance.

"It's okay, Cas," Dean replied, but Castiel shook his head, fresh tears welling and falling down as his brows furrowed with anger.

"Stop saying its okay," Castiel snapped, though he had the fortitude to keep his voice as low as possible, "It's not okay. It's not okay for you to do this. It's not okay for this to happen. Please, don't let yourself get hurt anymore."

Dean watched Castiel as he silently cried, and he swallowed before leaning down, touching his forehead to Castiel's and stroking his thumb along his cheekbone with his free hand, "I've done this before, Cas. This won't hurt," Dean whispered, the partial lie escaping his lips easily, much as he had done with Sam before pulling away, helping Castiel to his feet before guiding him under the bed, doing his best to ignore Castiel's pleas for him to stop.

He finally turned to the two soldiers, the hard look in his eyes making it clear what was at stake, "How do you plan to convince them that I'm Cas?" He asked with a slight growl in his voice. Letts shifted a little, glancing at the door then back.

"They don't walk in, but they just stand by the door and...listen," He mumbled, the man seemingly crawling in his own skin, "But just in case...the bed here is far enough that they wouldn't notice from the doorway."

Dean nodded, his hands moving up and jerkily undoing his uniform, "Let's get this over with," He huffed, glancing back once at where he assumed Castiel was before leaning over the edge of the bed, letting his arms hide his face as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.