[fic] These Three Things (Supernatural; eventual Destiel) 5/10-ish
These Three Things
by: exorcistor
Fandom: Supernatural
People/pairings (this chapter): Castiel, Dean, Zachariah
Word count: 2088
Genre: idk, drama? family?
Rating: worksafe
Beta: Thank you aerilex for the helpful pointers on both canon, theology, and language!
Note: And now I've wrote myself into a corner, a bit, as I haven't had time to write ahead of this chapter. I'll try my best to get some time to write this week, so that I can keep the chapters coming this regularly. Wish me luck!
---
PART ONE: Faith
Chapter five: Not a Show at Seaworld
And now abide faith, hope, love; these three things; and the greater of these is love.
- St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians: 13:13, the Bible
Castiel leaves Dean in a state of confusion; he’s aware of that, but he has told Dean as much as he can at the moment, and he is needed elsewhere. A seal is found; his Garrison is waiting for him at the edge of battle. Dean Winchester is a capable man, he’ll be able to care for his hunter friend and get them both back safely.
The next time Castiel has time to go to Dean is in the aftermath of the same battle. For three days, Castiel has watched his brethren being torn apart before his very eyes. Lilith scores a victory over the forces of Heaven, breaking another seal - that’s five down, sixty-one to go - and he is very tired. The Winchesters have not been idle; the Witnesses were a seal which the angels had had to trust the Righteous Man to take care of, and he has done so with merit. Even if the seal was broken, unnecessary harm to the human world was prevented. Beside the hunters who fell victim to their failed rescues, of course. It is regrettable, but of little significance.
Castiel sets his vessel down in the facility of Bobby Singer’s home. He can feel that Dean’s mind is far away in sleep, so he reaches out with his Grace, slipping into the man’s dreamscape unnoticed. Even here, he finds Dean’s subconscious self resting, but not for long. Moments after Castiel has penetrated his dreams, Dean lifts his head from the pillow.
“Excellent job with the witnesses,” Castiel states, as the man approaches him. He is truly grateful for the help they have received with the seal, at the same time as he is shameful that he and his brethren has not been able to serve God as successfully.
Dean does not seem so ready to accept the compliment. “You were hip to all this?” he asks, eyes narrowing.
Castiel nods. “I was..." How to phrase it; Dean Winchester was so prone to snap judgements and anger. "Um, made aware.” That would have to suffice as an explanation. It was the truth, either way. Even if he had felt a need to go help the Winchesters, he had been otherwise occupied. As it was, he had felt no need, as his orders clearly stated which battle he was meant to be present at.
“Well, thanks a lot for the angelic assistance.” Dean’s words are strangled. He does not sound grateful; this has to be sarcasm. “You know I almost got my heart ripped out of my chest?”
“But you didn’t,” Castiel reassures him.
“I thought angels were supposed to be guardians,” Dean continues, clearly not calmed by Castiel’s words. “Fluffy wings, halos... You know. Michael Landon. Not dicks.”
While Castiel does not understand the references Dean makes entirely, he can interpret the man’s tone enough to understand that this is not a compliment. His eyes are unwavering as he meets Dean’s gaze.
“Read the bible,” he says calmly. There is the vocal chords acting up again, and here he had thought that he’d finally gained full control over this body. There is something fluttering in the pit of his stomach as he is near Dean Winchester, however, which upsets that control. He must practice more.
In his waking state, Dean Winchester is not nearly as pleasant as when Castiel held his soul close. Allegations s hail on him, a long string of harsh words from Dean’s mouth. Castiel thinks of the battle he has just left, his Garrison, the lives they lost. He cannot tell Dean about this, the orders are to let the Righteous Man come to his own conclusions after all. But he cannot help that Dean’s words cut into him, lifting the pain of losing his brethren and failing his Father to the surface. This human is infuriating, in the way he not only refuses to listen, but also twist everything Castiel offers into something else entirely.
But Dean is not satisfied with only accusing Castiel and his brethren of cowardice. “And by the way, where the hell’s your boss, huh, if there is a God?”
“There is a God.”
“I’m not convinced.” Castiel does not know what to say. How can Dean Winchester, of all humans, question his Father’s existence, when He has done so much for him and his family already? But then again, God gave the humans free will, and free choices, although it is entirely foreign to Castiel why anyone would choose to turn away from his Father’s everlasting love and warmth. Dean continues to ramble on about the pain of the mortals, putting all of the blame unto his Father, and every attempts of Castiel’s to argue is silenced by rudeness. He finally raises his hands in a helpless gesture; he has rarely been this tempted to simply abandon his mission and simply go back to his Garrison, where everything is clear; orders are to be followed, not questioned, and evil is to be purged.
But he has another mission here; Dean needs to be informed of the seals, he needs to know what they’re up against. So far, the Winchesters have fought demons without any knowledge of their plans. It had been thought to be for the best; if the brothers could prevent the Apocalypse by smothering the spark before it caught fire, all of their problems would seize to be. But the prophecy took a different turn, and now they’re running out of time. Dean Winchester must be made aware of the role he will come to play.
And it is actually Dean himself who brings it up. As Castiel explains to him the purpose of the rising of the witnesses, Lilith’s agenda, Dean catches on quickly; while he may not be ready to put his faith in an unseen force such as God, this is what he has done his entire life; hunt evil. Castiel is glad, it makes things easier.
“Why break the seal anyway?” Dean asks him.
“You think of the seals as locks on a door.” Of course, it is much more complicated than that, but Castiel attempts to explain in terms as easy as possible so that the human can understand.
“...Okay. Last one opens, and?”
This is the part which Castiel hesitates to let him know. It is disgraceful, this family feud which has torn the Earth apart. His brothers turning on one another, falling from Grace, their Father’s pain and silence... Yet, despite all this, he does not wish to dirty his brother’s name. Lucifer was the most brilliant of angels, although to these mortals he has never been known as anything else than the ultimate evil. And perhaps he is, Castiel thinks.
“Lucifer walks free,” he says simply, looking into Dean’s eyes, steeling himself for the guilt which he knows will wash over him upon revealing to Dean the shame of his brethren.
“Lucifer?”
Castiel nods.
“But I thought Lucifer was just a story they told in demon Sunday school. There’s no such thing.”
The angel is almost amused by the man’s attempt to protect himself from the truth. Dean looks at him, his eyes full of questions, and yet he fights so hard to push aside the answers offered to him. They are very expressive eyes, Castiel has noticed, and though Dean is unwilling to put his true emotions on display for anyone to see, they are still visible to Castiel as if were they written in ink on a white surface. “Why do you think we’re here, walking among you now for the first time in two thousand years?”
Realization dawns in those green pools, and finally - finally - Dean accepts what Castiel is, and what he is trying to tell him. “To stop Lucifer.”
The angel nods. “It’s why we have arrived.”
The moment of honesty passes, and Dean closes himself off once more. Castiel attempts to explain to him: “Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week,” and as he speaks of it, he can feel the twinge of pain in his Grace which marks the loss of his brethren to the war; Nathaniel, Mihr and Muriel all fell during their escape from the Pit; three more during the battle of the seals... Castiel mourns them all. “You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There’s a bigger picture here.”
He knows Dean Winchester will never be able to understand it, not entirely. He is growing weary of trying to explain himself to the man. There must be a quicker way to make him understand his position. He leans in close and his eyes bear into Dean’s. “You should show me some respect,” he murmurs. “I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in.”
Naturally, he does not mean what he’s threatening, he would never disobey his orders. But Dean does not know this, naturally, and the sense of satisfaction which fills Castiel as he leaves him to return to his Garrison. Uriel his highly amused when he tells him of his encounter with Dean Winchester, and listens readily as Castiel vents his frustrations.
His next mission concerning the older Winchester brother comes all too soon, in his opinion. The man is truly irksome; he never does what he is told. Zachariah calls Castiel to him, to let him know about his new assignment:
“Dean Winchester must be made aware of his brother’s situation,” Zachariah tells Castiel, as they meet in the memory of one of the souls resting in the Everlasting. His brother’s true form is so brilliant to him through the eyes of his vessel, and Castiel has to avert his gaze not to get distracted.
“I am not certain he would believe me if I told him about it; he does not trust us,” Castiel mumbles.
“Then don’t tell him,” Zachariah shrugs.
“Then how...?”
“Show him. You are strong enough for a simple time manipulation, right?”
“I believe so, but what about the risks...?”
Zachariah touches Castiel’s shoulder with his Grace, and instantly the angel is filled with calm and reassurance.
“I am convinced you will find a way, Castiel,” he says.
And so, Castiel is on his way to see Dean once more. Again, he finds the man sleeping, and he attempts to sneak into his subconscious, and is instantly bombarded with horrifying images.
All around him is Hell, the icy burning flames licking at his Grace, reaching for him. Castiel looks around him; as this is not his dream, there is no sensation, but that does not make the imagery any less scarring. In the middle of a deep ditch stands Dean, blood covering his subconscious form, and he is laughing, laughing like a crazed man as he aims stab after stab of a three-bladed knife into a bound, face-less shape which can only be a projection of Dean’s memory of the many souls he strung up onto the rack and tortured. Castiel only stays idle for a split second before springing to action, tugging both himself and Dean with him back to the conscious world.
Dean takes a while longer than Castiel would have liked to snap back into reality.
“Hello Dean,” Castiel says, finally, announcing his presence to the awakening hunter. Dean scrambles to face him, staring disbelieving at the angel.
“What... were you dreaming about?” Castiel inquires. Naturally, he already knows. The vividness of the dream has convinced him that the dream not only was a mash up of inner turmoil, but an actual memory which Dean relived. Castiel had known that Dean had been broken under the pressure of Hell, had traced his hands over the cracks in his soul and mourned that there was nothing more he could do to heal this precious creation of his Father’s. But he had not expected the impact of seeing Dean as he himself had seen his time in the Pit would have on him.
Of course - he supposes he should have expected it after his previous encounters with Dean - Dean instantly proceeds to insult Castiel. He pays the rude words no heed; he has no time for this, Sam Winchester is growing more dangerous and unpredictable, and they need Dean’s insight to know what is going on with his younger brother. Castiel lifts his hand to transport Dean back to year 1973, the 30th of April; only days before Samuel and Deanna Winchester met their deaths at the hand of his former brother Azazel.
---
Previous
by: exorcistor
Fandom: Supernatural
People/pairings (this chapter): Castiel, Dean, Zachariah
Word count: 2088
Genre: idk, drama? family?
Rating: worksafe
Beta: Thank you aerilex for the helpful pointers on both canon, theology, and language!
Note: And now I've wrote myself into a corner, a bit, as I haven't had time to write ahead of this chapter. I'll try my best to get some time to write this week, so that I can keep the chapters coming this regularly. Wish me luck!
---
PART ONE: Faith
Chapter five: Not a Show at Seaworld
And now abide faith, hope, love; these three things; and the greater of these is love.
- St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians: 13:13, the Bible
Castiel leaves Dean in a state of confusion; he’s aware of that, but he has told Dean as much as he can at the moment, and he is needed elsewhere. A seal is found; his Garrison is waiting for him at the edge of battle. Dean Winchester is a capable man, he’ll be able to care for his hunter friend and get them both back safely.
The next time Castiel has time to go to Dean is in the aftermath of the same battle. For three days, Castiel has watched his brethren being torn apart before his very eyes. Lilith scores a victory over the forces of Heaven, breaking another seal - that’s five down, sixty-one to go - and he is very tired. The Winchesters have not been idle; the Witnesses were a seal which the angels had had to trust the Righteous Man to take care of, and he has done so with merit. Even if the seal was broken, unnecessary harm to the human world was prevented. Beside the hunters who fell victim to their failed rescues, of course. It is regrettable, but of little significance.
Castiel sets his vessel down in the facility of Bobby Singer’s home. He can feel that Dean’s mind is far away in sleep, so he reaches out with his Grace, slipping into the man’s dreamscape unnoticed. Even here, he finds Dean’s subconscious self resting, but not for long. Moments after Castiel has penetrated his dreams, Dean lifts his head from the pillow.
“Excellent job with the witnesses,” Castiel states, as the man approaches him. He is truly grateful for the help they have received with the seal, at the same time as he is shameful that he and his brethren has not been able to serve God as successfully.
Dean does not seem so ready to accept the compliment. “You were hip to all this?” he asks, eyes narrowing.
Castiel nods. “I was..." How to phrase it; Dean Winchester was so prone to snap judgements and anger. "Um, made aware.” That would have to suffice as an explanation. It was the truth, either way. Even if he had felt a need to go help the Winchesters, he had been otherwise occupied. As it was, he had felt no need, as his orders clearly stated which battle he was meant to be present at.
“Well, thanks a lot for the angelic assistance.” Dean’s words are strangled. He does not sound grateful; this has to be sarcasm. “You know I almost got my heart ripped out of my chest?”
“But you didn’t,” Castiel reassures him.
“I thought angels were supposed to be guardians,” Dean continues, clearly not calmed by Castiel’s words. “Fluffy wings, halos... You know. Michael Landon. Not dicks.”
While Castiel does not understand the references Dean makes entirely, he can interpret the man’s tone enough to understand that this is not a compliment. His eyes are unwavering as he meets Dean’s gaze.
“Read the bible,” he says calmly. There is the vocal chords acting up again, and here he had thought that he’d finally gained full control over this body. There is something fluttering in the pit of his stomach as he is near Dean Winchester, however, which upsets that control. He must practice more.
In his waking state, Dean Winchester is not nearly as pleasant as when Castiel held his soul close. Allegations s hail on him, a long string of harsh words from Dean’s mouth. Castiel thinks of the battle he has just left, his Garrison, the lives they lost. He cannot tell Dean about this, the orders are to let the Righteous Man come to his own conclusions after all. But he cannot help that Dean’s words cut into him, lifting the pain of losing his brethren and failing his Father to the surface. This human is infuriating, in the way he not only refuses to listen, but also twist everything Castiel offers into something else entirely.
But Dean is not satisfied with only accusing Castiel and his brethren of cowardice. “And by the way, where the hell’s your boss, huh, if there is a God?”
“There is a God.”
“I’m not convinced.” Castiel does not know what to say. How can Dean Winchester, of all humans, question his Father’s existence, when He has done so much for him and his family already? But then again, God gave the humans free will, and free choices, although it is entirely foreign to Castiel why anyone would choose to turn away from his Father’s everlasting love and warmth. Dean continues to ramble on about the pain of the mortals, putting all of the blame unto his Father, and every attempts of Castiel’s to argue is silenced by rudeness. He finally raises his hands in a helpless gesture; he has rarely been this tempted to simply abandon his mission and simply go back to his Garrison, where everything is clear; orders are to be followed, not questioned, and evil is to be purged.
But he has another mission here; Dean needs to be informed of the seals, he needs to know what they’re up against. So far, the Winchesters have fought demons without any knowledge of their plans. It had been thought to be for the best; if the brothers could prevent the Apocalypse by smothering the spark before it caught fire, all of their problems would seize to be. But the prophecy took a different turn, and now they’re running out of time. Dean Winchester must be made aware of the role he will come to play.
And it is actually Dean himself who brings it up. As Castiel explains to him the purpose of the rising of the witnesses, Lilith’s agenda, Dean catches on quickly; while he may not be ready to put his faith in an unseen force such as God, this is what he has done his entire life; hunt evil. Castiel is glad, it makes things easier.
“Why break the seal anyway?” Dean asks him.
“You think of the seals as locks on a door.” Of course, it is much more complicated than that, but Castiel attempts to explain in terms as easy as possible so that the human can understand.
“...Okay. Last one opens, and?”
This is the part which Castiel hesitates to let him know. It is disgraceful, this family feud which has torn the Earth apart. His brothers turning on one another, falling from Grace, their Father’s pain and silence... Yet, despite all this, he does not wish to dirty his brother’s name. Lucifer was the most brilliant of angels, although to these mortals he has never been known as anything else than the ultimate evil. And perhaps he is, Castiel thinks.
“Lucifer walks free,” he says simply, looking into Dean’s eyes, steeling himself for the guilt which he knows will wash over him upon revealing to Dean the shame of his brethren.
“Lucifer?”
Castiel nods.
“But I thought Lucifer was just a story they told in demon Sunday school. There’s no such thing.”
The angel is almost amused by the man’s attempt to protect himself from the truth. Dean looks at him, his eyes full of questions, and yet he fights so hard to push aside the answers offered to him. They are very expressive eyes, Castiel has noticed, and though Dean is unwilling to put his true emotions on display for anyone to see, they are still visible to Castiel as if were they written in ink on a white surface. “Why do you think we’re here, walking among you now for the first time in two thousand years?”
Realization dawns in those green pools, and finally - finally - Dean accepts what Castiel is, and what he is trying to tell him. “To stop Lucifer.”
The angel nods. “It’s why we have arrived.”
The moment of honesty passes, and Dean closes himself off once more. Castiel attempts to explain to him: “Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week,” and as he speaks of it, he can feel the twinge of pain in his Grace which marks the loss of his brethren to the war; Nathaniel, Mihr and Muriel all fell during their escape from the Pit; three more during the battle of the seals... Castiel mourns them all. “You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There’s a bigger picture here.”
He knows Dean Winchester will never be able to understand it, not entirely. He is growing weary of trying to explain himself to the man. There must be a quicker way to make him understand his position. He leans in close and his eyes bear into Dean’s. “You should show me some respect,” he murmurs. “I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in.”
Naturally, he does not mean what he’s threatening, he would never disobey his orders. But Dean does not know this, naturally, and the sense of satisfaction which fills Castiel as he leaves him to return to his Garrison. Uriel his highly amused when he tells him of his encounter with Dean Winchester, and listens readily as Castiel vents his frustrations.
His next mission concerning the older Winchester brother comes all too soon, in his opinion. The man is truly irksome; he never does what he is told. Zachariah calls Castiel to him, to let him know about his new assignment:
“Dean Winchester must be made aware of his brother’s situation,” Zachariah tells Castiel, as they meet in the memory of one of the souls resting in the Everlasting. His brother’s true form is so brilliant to him through the eyes of his vessel, and Castiel has to avert his gaze not to get distracted.
“I am not certain he would believe me if I told him about it; he does not trust us,” Castiel mumbles.
“Then don’t tell him,” Zachariah shrugs.
“Then how...?”
“Show him. You are strong enough for a simple time manipulation, right?”
“I believe so, but what about the risks...?”
Zachariah touches Castiel’s shoulder with his Grace, and instantly the angel is filled with calm and reassurance.
“I am convinced you will find a way, Castiel,” he says.
And so, Castiel is on his way to see Dean once more. Again, he finds the man sleeping, and he attempts to sneak into his subconscious, and is instantly bombarded with horrifying images.
All around him is Hell, the icy burning flames licking at his Grace, reaching for him. Castiel looks around him; as this is not his dream, there is no sensation, but that does not make the imagery any less scarring. In the middle of a deep ditch stands Dean, blood covering his subconscious form, and he is laughing, laughing like a crazed man as he aims stab after stab of a three-bladed knife into a bound, face-less shape which can only be a projection of Dean’s memory of the many souls he strung up onto the rack and tortured. Castiel only stays idle for a split second before springing to action, tugging both himself and Dean with him back to the conscious world.
Dean takes a while longer than Castiel would have liked to snap back into reality.
“Hello Dean,” Castiel says, finally, announcing his presence to the awakening hunter. Dean scrambles to face him, staring disbelieving at the angel.
“What... were you dreaming about?” Castiel inquires. Naturally, he already knows. The vividness of the dream has convinced him that the dream not only was a mash up of inner turmoil, but an actual memory which Dean relived. Castiel had known that Dean had been broken under the pressure of Hell, had traced his hands over the cracks in his soul and mourned that there was nothing more he could do to heal this precious creation of his Father’s. But he had not expected the impact of seeing Dean as he himself had seen his time in the Pit would have on him.
Of course - he supposes he should have expected it after his previous encounters with Dean - Dean instantly proceeds to insult Castiel. He pays the rude words no heed; he has no time for this, Sam Winchester is growing more dangerous and unpredictable, and they need Dean’s insight to know what is going on with his younger brother. Castiel lifts his hand to transport Dean back to year 1973, the 30th of April; only days before Samuel and Deanna Winchester met their deaths at the hand of his former brother Azazel.
---
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