Disclaimer: One day I'll kidnap Jared and Jensen and make them play out Supernatural episodes with me over and over... but until then, I don't own them or the series.
My first fic featuring Castiel, so I hope you guys like it! Its a bit of an AU to The End, Season 5 I suppose, quite a random idea.
Warning: Contains blood, a little bit of swearing (are you really surprised?) and NO SLASH!
Dean blinked as Zachariah's smirking face vanished to be replaced by Castiel's slightly smug smile. He let out a long breath of relief he didn't realize he had been holding and let a wobbly smile rush over his face.
"That was pretty nice timing, Cas."
Castiel smiled. "We had an appointment."
Dean visibally relaxed and placed a shaking hand on his shoulder. "Don't ever change."
Castiel blinked but if he was confused he did not let on. "How did Zachariah find you?"
"Long story. Lets just stay away from Jehovahs Witnesses, huh?"
Castiel watched as Dean suddenly groped for his mobile, his smile fading.
"What are you doing?"
"Something I should've done in the first place," Dean replied, his eyes fixed firmly on the mobile. Then, as Castiel frowned, "I'm calling Sam."
Castiel watched him silently as he lifted his mobile to his ear and listened to the ringing. After a few seconds Sam's voicemail came on, and Dean scowled. He hesitated as the mobile beeped, his cue to leave a message... he bit his lip.
"Hey, Sam, its me. Dean. I just... call me when you get this, okay? I need to talk to you." He hung up and pushed the mobile back into his pocket, turning to Castiel as he did so. "So, think you can airlift my baby over here?"
Castiel's smile faded. "I cannot. Besides the sight would cause far too much confusion amongst the ordinary people in the streets."
"Yeah, I figured," Dean said. He glanced around, pausing. "Okay. Where are we?"
"Just out of town."
"Good. I'll head back in and get the car, probably have to lay low until Zachariah's definately gone."
"But..." Castiel cocked his head. "I wanted to talk to you about-"
"I know, I know," Dean sighed. "I swear, we'll get right on that. But first I really need to talk to Sam."
Castiel looked a little put out, but he nodded anyway. Dean clapped him on the shoulder once more and then began to walk back towards the flickering lights of the city just behind them. Castiel turned to watch him leave, his face troubled.
And so, once more, he was left standing on the side of the road with nothing to do but wait...
Castiel froze, his eyes widening. He remained completely still, certain that he had imagined the voice, misheard some sound of the night. He waited, almost quivering with expectation.
Castiel. We must talk.
Castiel shut his eyes, trying to relax. The voice was definately angelic, and yet he hadn't heard another angel's voice for months. He swallowed hard, tried to focus his mind on the voice.
Who... are you?
You know me. We must talk now... wait...
Danger... you are needed.
The voice vanished abruptly, and Castiel flinched in surprise. He tried calling, but there was no response. He began to pace, lost as to what to do. Someone wanted to talk to him. It could easily be a trick, some attempt by Zachariah to catch him off guard. But that voice had definately not been Zachariah's. That voice he had heard before somewhere. That voice... he clenched his teeth as a curse rose on his tongue. He had definately been spending far too much time around Dean. If he wasn't careful, soon he too would be using blasphemy every other sentence.
Dean. He could approach Dean with what had happened, but he couldn't help but feel wary of that thought. There was something about that voice that was private, special. He wasn't sure if he wanted Dean to know about it just yet. But there wasn't really much he could do alone... He shut his eyes, ready to call again when a very different voice suddenly penetrated his mind.
"Oh god, please, help me... help me... shit... God, oh god... help me, please, please..."
Castiel's eyes snapped open. Now that voice was not angelic. That voice was very human, and very desperate. The voice spoke again, and the reality of what he was hearing finally dawned on him. He was listening to a prayer. It wasn't unusual - he often caught snatches of the prayers of humans. But again, this voice was familiar. More familiar, in fact, than the previous one but he still couldn't quite place it. He could, however, track it... the previous voice had pricked in interest. And could they be connected? He hadn't heard a prayer for at least three months. Surely it had to mean something. Without a second thought he began to move. Not walk, or run, but fly. The world streaked past him, a mere blur at the edge of his vision. He kept the voice clear in his mind, homing in on it as it grew clearer.
He came to a sharp halt in a dull street in New York, cocking his head slightly. He could still hear the whispered prayer of the one begging for his help, and it was beginning to irritate him. He hadn't heard a prayer this clearly since he had rebelled against Uriel, and the fact that he listening to someone he knew only made it even more worrying. And the person's voice was getting weaker. Whoever it was was running out of time.
"Please... please help me..."
Castiel could hear a dull thumping from somewhere to his left. He turned slowly, his eyes falling to a rusted door set into the building beside him, almost obscured by a mouldy green dumpster. From within he could just hear the sound of laughter, a sound which had a strange edge to it. Demons.
"Agh! Shit, no! Someone, please!"
Castiel only hesitated for a moment longer. Then he strode towards the door and flung out a hand, sending it flying open with a loud Bang! He stepped into the room, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes burning with a faint light. He took in the scene before him in a matter of seconds, his eyes flicking breifly from side to side. A torn sofa stood at one end of the room stained with something that looked suspiciously like blood. Before it stood a table, littered with sweet wrappers, takeaway boxes, cans and bottles. There was a small bar light across the ceiling, which was blinking on and off. There were six demons in the room altogether, three attacking a door in the opposite wall with everything they had, one gulping vodka from a large, half-full bottle, one standing back and watching, laughing. The final demon stood just in front of the door, cackling loudly, arms crossed before it. As Castiel entered it turned, black eyes glistening. Even as the grin slipped from its face, Castiel slammed his hand down on the demon's forehead. White light exploded from the host's eyes and mouth as the demon screamed, howled in agony. Castiel tore his hand away as the unconscious host slumped to the floor and stepped forwards to face the two demons who had turned to face him - the girl who had been watching the others, the boy with the vodka bottle. Blood was streaked across the girl's face, but it was not her own and she smirked as she met his gaze.
They lunged forwards as one and Castiel twisted, lashing out so that his foot caught the boy in the stomach, his fist twisted in the girl's collar. He dragged her forwards and put his hand to her head, threw her away even before she had finished screaming as the boy ran forwards again. The demon's fist caught him on the jaw and he stumbled backwards into the table. The ricketty furniture gave way at once beneath him and he crashed to the ground. The demon threw itself forwards, but Castiel lashed out with both feet and sent it tumbling to the floor. He scrambled forwards onto his knees and slammed a hand down on the demon before it could recover. As the blazing light burst from the figure one of the three demons near the door finally seemed to realize what was going on and ran to help. Castiel flung out a hand, stopping it dead before it could continue, but this one was stronger and it fought against him. No sooner had the vodka demon finally fallen still beside him, the other one had pulled free and was racing towards Castiel. Its booted foot swung up and caught him across the face, sending him toppling over onto the ground.
Across the room, the door suddenly gave way and the two demons poured into the room beyond. A scream errupted, both from the room and from within Castiel's head.
"No! Shit, no, help me.... gah!"
Castiel's stomach lurched and he rose up to his feet, his eyes burning furiously. He hit the demon before him once, twice, three times, blood flowing from the host's nose and lip. He brought his knee up into the demon's stomach and then, as it doubled over, brought both hands down on its head. It screeched, inhuman and wild, as he tore the demon from its host.
Castiel quickened his pace to a jog as he neared the room. The voice was faltering, he could almost feel the waves of pain rushing out from the room. As he reached the door, voices reached his ears.
"Give it up, kid. Your brother ain't coming this time. Its just you-" Thud "-me-" Thud "-and fun, fun, fun until that pretty light in those pretty little eyes of yours goes out!"
Another thud and a yelp of pain. Castiel kicked the door back and emerged into a small tiled bathroom. The floor was slippery with blood in the corner where the two remaining demons - a blonde woman and a coloured man - were standing with their victim. The man was holding him against the wall while the woman clawed at him. A knife hung from her fingers, dripping with crimson blood. Castiel could barely see who it was he had been fighting for - a tall man, probably mid-twenties, blood drenching his T-shirt and leaking into his jacket, his face a mass of bruises. Barely a glimpse. As Castiel moved forwards the woman demon turned, and then nudged her accomplice.
"Well, well, well," she said, her voice breathless with the joy of torture. "An angel. I feel honoured, really I do."
Her companion sank his fist into the victim's stomach and then hurled him into the corner where he curled up and crouched motionless. The two demons stepped forwards, black eyes glinting. Castiel watched them silently.
"I didn't think you'd show up," the woman said. "Its the other one you favour, isn't it? And besides, with him being tainted and all, he's not really your type, is he?"
Something stirred in the back of Castiel's mind and he glanced quickly at the shuddering, still unrecognizable figure on the ground. No, it couldn't be. The demon suddenly grabbed for him, and he turned his attention back to them. He flicked himself backwards out of reach and hit the woman in the face. As the man approached Castiel flung an arm out, pinning the demon to the wall, and turned to face the woman. He put his hand to her face. She writhed in his grasp as light began to burn in her eyes.
"I'll kill you for this, you son of... of..." Her snarl died on her lips as the light glowed brightly and she fell to the floor.
Castiel turned to the man, who was fighting against him. The man's eyes widened in fear as Castiel stepped forwards.
"N-No... Let me go, I'll leave the kid alone, I swear!"
Castiel twitched his head. "Forgiveness is His area of expertise," he growled, flicking his eyes skywards. "Unfortunately for you, it is not mine."
He thrust his hand forwards. The demon screamed, and then slid down the wall and lay still on the ground. Castiel pulled a deep breath in and out of his lungs, closing his eyes to compose himself. He sent a short prayer to whoever was listening, apologising for his sins and asking for understanding. Then he turned to the man who was curled into the corner, his bloody fingers gripping the wall as if he would never let go. His hair was wet and blood trickled from several deep cuts on his face, which was more blue than natural skin. Blood was creeping from beneath him in a spreading pool across the tiles at an alarmingly fast rate. Harsh, gasping breaths tore in and out of his bleeding lips.
Castiel made his way forwards, slow, cautious steps. The man twisted away, his whole body trembling with the anticipation of another blow, his shoulders heaving. Castiel dropped slowly down onto his haunches, reached out a hand. He touched the man's shoulder, and the man let out a whimper of pain.
"It's alright." Castiel kept his voice soft. He had dealt with wounded humans before, of course he had, but always only for a few seconds. Usually there was someone else coming to help. There was no one coming now. But his words seemed to work; the man turned his head slightly, his glazed eyes flickering open. The word that shivered from his lips was almost expected, and yet it still sent a thrill of surprise through Castiel's spine.
Castiel slowly withdrew his hand, his eyes widening. For the man crouched in the corner, covered in blood, shivering and bruised was indeed someone he knew.
It was Sam Winchester.
Dun-dun-dah!! Anyone interested at all? If not I'll quit while I'm ahead. :D