FIC: Where Angels Fear to Tread (904 spoilers)
Title: Where Angels Fear to Tread
Author: CitrusJava
Pairing/rating: Gen
Spoilers: Up to 904
Characters: Dean, Zeke, Sam
Disclaimer: This is fanfic. Boys and world aren't mine, just taking them out for a joy ride, wind in our windows and blasting Metallica. You should try that, too.
Words: ~1200
Summary: What could happen after 904, but won't.
Sam is worryingly secretive about what's gonna happen to the Lannisters next season.
"Read it yourself, Dean", he says with finality, and his gaze returns to the scroll he's translating. But there's a sparkle behind his lashes, and the edge of his mouth twitches in a tiny smile Sam can't hold back. "If you can get through the parts without the sex".
Dean lunges at him, toppling them both to the carpet. He's gonna give Sam a noogie so thorough Sam won't ever need a haircut again.
Sam goes stiff in Dean's arms, and for a second Dean stiffens too, ready to grab for first aid, or dodge's Sam's attack on Dean's own perfect-length hair.
"Stop undoing my work", Zeke says in Dean's arms, and Dean stops himself from yelping and dropping Sam. He moves away, letting go of Sam's body, to see Zeke smooth a hand over the place Sam just banged his arm against the table, white light glowing. "We need to talk. Your friend left the Men of Letters' console nearly ready to locate angels upon demand. Sam's been trying to get it to work in that way. You need to make sure he doesn't, or it will alert Sam to my presence".
A chill goes through Dean. He can just see Sam realizing the angel vibes he's detecting are coming from him. Getting Dean to tell him about Zeke. Or thinking Lucifer is still inside him. Or worst. Dean still thinks sometimes about what Sam said about being purified by the trials. Dean can imagine Sam, the boy who used to pray to angels and believe in miracles, experiencing a moment of grace, unexpected and benevolent, thinking he's been purified after all. Then discovering that not only wasn't he purified, the trials tried to burn him from the inside, his world is crappy and messed up, and a lot of that is Dean's fault. Dean holds back a shudder. This is too horrible a thought.
"I'll take care of it" he tells Zeke, and before he knows it, Sam is on top of him, pinning his hands over his head, small happy smirk back in place. "You're reading the books and you're doing the dishes tonight, jerk".
*
Dean sneaks back into the console room that night, looking for cables to disconnect, a hard drive to remove. He pulls out whatever's connected, even goes as far as taking some of the plastic key covers. But everything seems to be powered by magic. Nothing changes on he screens, and the progress bar on Charlie's tablet is still moving.
He replaces the covers, goes online. Finds cases for him and Sam to take, but Sam doesn't want to keep Cas waiting. And that is a whole other mess that Dean's avoiding looking at. Sam always has to be too kind to Cas, that little bitch.
He does some extra research at the Men of Letters' archives, pilfers their lab.
He considers getting Kevin to help, but the boy's tucked away at his motel room, trying to pour his brain back in, any mention of the console should make too many grey matter waves. He can't trust Kevin with that sort of thing anyway.
All too soon, he's run out of options, and Sam's almost done.
"Dean" he recognizes Zeke's intonation before he sees the glow of blue in Sam's eyes. He puts the beer bottle he got Sam down on the console, eyes lowered.
"If we don't stop him, Sam will find out there's an angel in the bunker within minutes. If Sam banishes me, we will both die. I'm sorry, Dean, but I can't have that. I have to stay in charge".
Dean's insides go icy, but he keeps his expression straight. "I can't let you do that".
"I am sorry, Dean, I must. I can't allow Sam to kick me out. You know there isn't any other option. You agreed. It's mutually beneficial, you know that".
Dean nods slowly, then flash-quick, tosses Creeping Myrtle dust at Zeke and starts to recite the Latin.
It was bound to happen at some point. Dean wasn't going to face it unprepared.
Zeke's face contorts. "Dean! Please don't do this". His voice is soft and reasonable, gentle. "I won't be able to heal Sam from the outside. Would you gamble on his life like that?"
Dean doesn't allow himself to waver.
"Sammy's a fast healer" .
"Dean", Zeke sounds earnest, even more than Sam does what faking a persona for a witness. "If you pull me out now, Sam will die. I haven't had the chance to heal enough of him yet. I wouldn't stay in charge if there were any other way, you know there isn't".
"Let him back out and I'll deal with the console". Dean keeps eye contact, steady gaze, blue burning his retinas.
He can do it. Spend the day playing 'find the angel' with Sam around the bunker. Demeaning, but doable. Convince Sam it's some sort of glitch. Or that the Men of Letters have someone's grace tucked away somewhere.
"And if you don't?"
"If I don't, then we'll deal" Dean bellows. "Let him out now, or I say the last words, and we're done. Sam would have been with me on this".
Zeke's lips go hard, and his hand twitches, as if wishing to toss Dean against the wall - tiny ugly flinch - but he hold back. Then it's Sam again.
Dean exhales. Tips the beer bottle all over the console, last attempt. But it doesn't seem to change a thing. It's a go.
Sam, a small, excited look on his face, presses a few buttons and does something with Charlie's tablet, and everything lights up, angels appearing on the map. Sam zooms in, and the little dots are in such resolution Dean can see them move around.
Dean grins, big and fake. "Good going, Sammy!" Alongside the horror, he is a little impressed with his baby brother for figuring something like this out, big brain or not.
Sam scrolls around, eyes alight. Dean watches him switch from map to map, checking that everything works. When he reaches Kansas, Dean tries to turn his twitch into something casual, can't remember how to stand without thinking about it. Sam zooms in, and Dean takes a swig from the empty bottle. Sam reaches the map of Lebanon, and lights go up in the area, a few too close for comfort, one at the place Dean gets their coffee. Another light and another light - and then they stop popping up. For a second Dean thinks something went wrong with the console. There is no light for the bunker. Nothing. Could it be warded against its own detection? No, surely, if the console has such good detection abilities, it would have reacted the moment an angel stepped inside the bunker. It didn't though...
Dean looks up sharply, just as Sam's eyes go blue. He says the last words of the incantation, but nothing happens.
Zeke nods at him, almost amiable. " I admit it, Dean. I've been lusting over your brother's body. I know I'm no angel, ".
Zeke flexes his arm and nods, pleased at the way it moves.
"You never let Sam use this body properly. All those powers, and nothing. Do you know how annoying it is to get out of a cozy bed to get the remote when you could just have it float to you, Dean?"
Zeke shakes his - Sam's - head.
"Of course you don't".
Dean is flung against the wall, and held in place, struggling. Zeke smiles to himself. "Nice. Now, where was it you kept that blood-filled demon of yours tied up, all juicy and available?"
End Notes: Balder12 and some other people said the console was going to be a problem for Zeke, which I liked a lot, hadn't thought of that. I got this idea, and counteragent said it should be fic. I decided I didn't have the time to write it, and sat down to write a paper I need to turn in tomorrow. This happened instead. As usual, this is written cause it wanted to be written, someone should seriously remix it with some love and care.
Oh, and another thing - Sam should be OK, since Crowley is no longer a demon, exactly, so no addictive blood.
Author: CitrusJava
Pairing/rating: Gen
Spoilers: Up to 904
Characters: Dean, Zeke, Sam
Disclaimer: This is fanfic. Boys and world aren't mine, just taking them out for a joy ride, wind in our windows and blasting Metallica. You should try that, too.
Words: ~1200
Summary: What could happen after 904, but won't.
Sam is worryingly secretive about what's gonna happen to the Lannisters next season.
"Read it yourself, Dean", he says with finality, and his gaze returns to the scroll he's translating. But there's a sparkle behind his lashes, and the edge of his mouth twitches in a tiny smile Sam can't hold back. "If you can get through the parts without the sex".
Dean lunges at him, toppling them both to the carpet. He's gonna give Sam a noogie so thorough Sam won't ever need a haircut again.
Sam goes stiff in Dean's arms, and for a second Dean stiffens too, ready to grab for first aid, or dodge's Sam's attack on Dean's own perfect-length hair.
"Stop undoing my work", Zeke says in Dean's arms, and Dean stops himself from yelping and dropping Sam. He moves away, letting go of Sam's body, to see Zeke smooth a hand over the place Sam just banged his arm against the table, white light glowing. "We need to talk. Your friend left the Men of Letters' console nearly ready to locate angels upon demand. Sam's been trying to get it to work in that way. You need to make sure he doesn't, or it will alert Sam to my presence".
A chill goes through Dean. He can just see Sam realizing the angel vibes he's detecting are coming from him. Getting Dean to tell him about Zeke. Or thinking Lucifer is still inside him. Or worst. Dean still thinks sometimes about what Sam said about being purified by the trials. Dean can imagine Sam, the boy who used to pray to angels and believe in miracles, experiencing a moment of grace, unexpected and benevolent, thinking he's been purified after all. Then discovering that not only wasn't he purified, the trials tried to burn him from the inside, his world is crappy and messed up, and a lot of that is Dean's fault. Dean holds back a shudder. This is too horrible a thought.
"I'll take care of it" he tells Zeke, and before he knows it, Sam is on top of him, pinning his hands over his head, small happy smirk back in place. "You're reading the books and you're doing the dishes tonight, jerk".
*
Dean sneaks back into the console room that night, looking for cables to disconnect, a hard drive to remove. He pulls out whatever's connected, even goes as far as taking some of the plastic key covers. But everything seems to be powered by magic. Nothing changes on he screens, and the progress bar on Charlie's tablet is still moving.
He replaces the covers, goes online. Finds cases for him and Sam to take, but Sam doesn't want to keep Cas waiting. And that is a whole other mess that Dean's avoiding looking at. Sam always has to be too kind to Cas, that little bitch.
He does some extra research at the Men of Letters' archives, pilfers their lab.
He considers getting Kevin to help, but the boy's tucked away at his motel room, trying to pour his brain back in, any mention of the console should make too many grey matter waves. He can't trust Kevin with that sort of thing anyway.
All too soon, he's run out of options, and Sam's almost done.
"Dean" he recognizes Zeke's intonation before he sees the glow of blue in Sam's eyes. He puts the beer bottle he got Sam down on the console, eyes lowered.
"If we don't stop him, Sam will find out there's an angel in the bunker within minutes. If Sam banishes me, we will both die. I'm sorry, Dean, but I can't have that. I have to stay in charge".
Dean's insides go icy, but he keeps his expression straight. "I can't let you do that".
"I am sorry, Dean, I must. I can't allow Sam to kick me out. You know there isn't any other option. You agreed. It's mutually beneficial, you know that".
Dean nods slowly, then flash-quick, tosses Creeping Myrtle dust at Zeke and starts to recite the Latin.
It was bound to happen at some point. Dean wasn't going to face it unprepared.
Zeke's face contorts. "Dean! Please don't do this". His voice is soft and reasonable, gentle. "I won't be able to heal Sam from the outside. Would you gamble on his life like that?"
Dean doesn't allow himself to waver.
"Sammy's a fast healer" .
"Dean", Zeke sounds earnest, even more than Sam does what faking a persona for a witness. "If you pull me out now, Sam will die. I haven't had the chance to heal enough of him yet. I wouldn't stay in charge if there were any other way, you know there isn't".
"Let him back out and I'll deal with the console". Dean keeps eye contact, steady gaze, blue burning his retinas.
He can do it. Spend the day playing 'find the angel' with Sam around the bunker. Demeaning, but doable. Convince Sam it's some sort of glitch. Or that the Men of Letters have someone's grace tucked away somewhere.
"And if you don't?"
"If I don't, then we'll deal" Dean bellows. "Let him out now, or I say the last words, and we're done. Sam would have been with me on this".
Zeke's lips go hard, and his hand twitches, as if wishing to toss Dean against the wall - tiny ugly flinch - but he hold back. Then it's Sam again.
Dean exhales. Tips the beer bottle all over the console, last attempt. But it doesn't seem to change a thing. It's a go.
Sam, a small, excited look on his face, presses a few buttons and does something with Charlie's tablet, and everything lights up, angels appearing on the map. Sam zooms in, and the little dots are in such resolution Dean can see them move around.
Dean grins, big and fake. "Good going, Sammy!" Alongside the horror, he is a little impressed with his baby brother for figuring something like this out, big brain or not.
Sam scrolls around, eyes alight. Dean watches him switch from map to map, checking that everything works. When he reaches Kansas, Dean tries to turn his twitch into something casual, can't remember how to stand without thinking about it. Sam zooms in, and Dean takes a swig from the empty bottle. Sam reaches the map of Lebanon, and lights go up in the area, a few too close for comfort, one at the place Dean gets their coffee. Another light and another light - and then they stop popping up. For a second Dean thinks something went wrong with the console. There is no light for the bunker. Nothing. Could it be warded against its own detection? No, surely, if the console has such good detection abilities, it would have reacted the moment an angel stepped inside the bunker. It didn't though...
Dean looks up sharply, just as Sam's eyes go blue. He says the last words of the incantation, but nothing happens.
Zeke nods at him, almost amiable. " I admit it, Dean. I've been lusting over your brother's body. I know I'm no angel, ".
Zeke flexes his arm and nods, pleased at the way it moves.
"You never let Sam use this body properly. All those powers, and nothing. Do you know how annoying it is to get out of a cozy bed to get the remote when you could just have it float to you, Dean?"
Zeke shakes his - Sam's - head.
"Of course you don't".
Dean is flung against the wall, and held in place, struggling. Zeke smiles to himself. "Nice. Now, where was it you kept that blood-filled demon of yours tied up, all juicy and available?"
End Notes: Balder12 and some other people said the console was going to be a problem for Zeke, which I liked a lot, hadn't thought of that. I got this idea, and counteragent said it should be fic. I decided I didn't have the time to write it, and sat down to write a paper I need to turn in tomorrow. This happened instead. As usual, this is written cause it wanted to be written, someone should seriously remix it with some love and care.
Oh, and another thing - Sam should be OK, since Crowley is no longer a demon, exactly, so no addictive blood.