Team Free Everything 2: Electric Boogaloo
The sequel to Team Free Everything that nobody asked for! As always, totally silly. If at all you detect angst it’s because these people are man-shaped angst bags floating in angst ocean (which, incidentally, is composed of billions upon billions of Single Manly Tears).
Summary: Sam’s teamed up with Castiel and Gadreel on one final grand mission, but there are more complications and distractions than he’d foreseen.
Warnings: SPOILERS for 9.23. Some swearing.
Team Free Anything 2: Electric Boogaloo
Charlie’s left them a veritable supernatural master key-building off her work, it doesn’t take long for Sam to devise an algorithm to track down demons using specific patterns of omens that follow them around like demonic signatures. It doesn’t always work-more powerful demons like Crowley and Abaddon are more discreet-but it does make it easy to track Dean.
He marks Dean’s movements out on a map, checks local news stories regularly for spikes in murder and general mayhem, makes neat little notations in a notebook (circling around dallas, texas, for two weeks now-?planning demonic attack, ?black vision making him directionally challenged, ?he knows I’m watching and just wants to piss me off).
For the most part, he doesn’t contact Dean, because it’s clear that Dean doesn’t want to be contacted. There are a few exceptions, though, like the time Dean seems to settle in a little town in Alabama for nearly a month, doing… much of nothing as far as Sam can tell.
Sweet home Alabama? he texts.
Almost immediately, Dean texts back: don’t ask me no questions.
Sam snorts.
-
Castiel’s grace fizzles out at around the third time he heals Gadreel.
“It was a paper cut!” Sam roars, even as Castiel grimaces and digs in his ear. “Gadreel can heal himself!”
“It’s Dree,” Castiel protests morosely, while Gadreel says, “I seem to have lost the ability to heal this body, Sam-Castiel-Cas,” he amends at Castiel’s glare, “his… borrowed grace was required to heal me from the First Blade’s wound, and now I’m afraid that even that is not possible.”
“That’s-okay, wait, that makes sense.” Sam sighs. “You okay, Cas? Now that you’re-human again?”
Castiel finally digs out his finger: there’s a clump of wax at the tip, and what looks like a squished bug. He brandishes it triumphantly. “This is it!” he says.
Both Sam’s and Gadreel’s eyebrows climb in eerie synchrony.
“I mean,” Castiel rushes to clarify, “all these months, I thought I was hearing Theo whispering in my head because it was his grace I had stolen. But in reality, it was this insect.”
Sam’s flirtations with curiosity had historically never done him any favours, but he ventures, “And what was the insect telling you?”
“Well, it doesn’t translate exactly, but it was a combination of, ‘why am I here’ and,” Castiel takes a deep breath, and lets out a long yell that makes Sam jump.
“And you thought that was another angel why?”
“It was the first part that clinched it, really,” Castiel says. “Existential crises are very common among angels.”
“That is true,” Gadreel says.
-
30 Aug, 2014 - 2:14 PM
Made a definite pass through Ashford, Connecticut two days ago-reports of a strange man with black eyes performing “psychic tricks” demanding only pie and to be called “Pie God” in return
?Mark of Cain tired of bloodlust ?masked murders
?Dean doesn’t like cake?
!what an asshole
-
They’d used Metatron’s angel transmitter to try and communicate to the rest of the angels that Heaven was open and that they could go home. However, Metatron had only programmed it to transmit to those he’d deemed important to his story; most of the rest of the angels in the world still don’t know he even is. And according to Hannah’s reports, most of the angels that heard the message simply opted not to go home.
“This is inexplicable!” Castiel tells the angel who insists on being called Vader-god. “This is all we’ve ever wanted-we can go home!”
“But we have found home here-a better one than we ever had.” He turns to his cubicle, presses two fingers to his cup of coffee. Steam rises from it, and the air is filled with the bracing smell of fresh coffee.”
“You were uninvited,” Sam grits out.
Vader-god raises a blond eyebrow. “Is that really what you want to be saying to me? In this day and age? Really?”
“You’re-” Sam waves his hands impotently. “You’re stealing other people’s identities! Their lives! Their jobs!”
Vader-god smiles. “I asked for permission. And here I am, entering data without a care in the world, when at home, I feared for my life every day under a succession of mass-murdering despots.” He gives a pointed glare at Castiel, who’s poking at his Iron Man figurine’s chest with a pencil.
“And this tedious existence,” Gadreel says, “brings you more meaning than an eternity spent in the service of our creator?”
“No sincere work is too frivolous or insignificant, Gadreel; I can serve just as well from here. Besides,” Vader-god lowers his voice, “we have this wondrous thing here called the internet!”
“That’s-” Sam frowns. “Uh. That’s… what you really want?”
“I was reborn and renamed through this massive, impossibly intricate network! We cannot bear to leave it behind.”
“What if,” Sam begins slowly, “you were to get the internet in Heaven?”
Vader-god stares at him, wide-eyed. Gadreel frowns, and Castiel stops trying to pull off Iron Man’s head with his teeth.
“I know a trick or two about wi-fi access,” Sam says, and grins.
-
2 Sep 2014-3:25 am
Dean, wherever you are, I hope you’re drunk as fuck. I know I am.
Finis