FIC: "And Lo, I Saw the Fifth Angel" (Supernatural, post 4.01)
And Lo, I Saw the Fifth Angel by LJ
Spoilers through 4.01 “Lazarus Rising”
Ca. 1100 words
(Because I would do something awesome for Dean’s 30th birthday in January if I were Kripke…with no offense intended towards the Abrahamic religions)
Summary: Luke 3:22-23 (minus the future messiah implications; this was the best I could do as a heathen)
“Castiel!”
Castiel turned, the wind whipping the ends of the long coat at his vessel’s legs. Before him stood four beings he did not immediately recognize but he wisely looked deeper and recognized them, the shadows of their wings rising higher than the trees. He fell to his knees in supplication. “My lords,” he cried, “tell me how I have offended and I will repent!”
The tallest of the four spoke again. “Rise, Castiel,” he ordered.
Castiel did as ordered. “My lord,” he began, but another of the four raised his hand and Castiel knew to fall silent.
“You were given a mission, Castiel,” the second said. “The manner in which you have executed it has caused unneeded strife.”
Castiel frowned. “But I have completed that mission,” he replied. “I drew Dean Winchester out of Perdition; I made contact with him on the mortal plane; I told him that there is still work for him to do on our behalf.”
“Indeed, you did,” the third said. “But his soul is now greatly troubled and there is discord among his tribe.”
“And unnecessary damage was done,” said the fourth. “The seer is blind and will never know contact with the transcendent planes again. The vessels of the unholy could have been cleansed, but now they are dead. You brought fear and distrust of our kind to those who would do our work. Your own vessel has suffered due to your irresponsibility. You have displayed your powers at moments when reining them in would have been more prudent.”
Castiel acknowledged each of the charges with a further sinking of his head, but still he was indignant: “My lords, I did as I thought was best-”
The first interrupted him: “You fail to understand the mortal race, and their modernity. You did not prepare yourself properly. Dean Winchester and his tribe do not cling to the same ideas of good and evil that their mortal ancestors held even a century ago: their experience of the supernatural necessitates a division of good and evil that somewhat resembles the reality we know to be true, and it occasionally resembles that which their less knowledgeable contemporaries believe in. The truth would have been more palatable to Dean Winchester than the moniker of divinity you gave yourself. Your shows of power will only lead to his presuming you are something other than what you are.”
“That we are officers of a power of good is true, as you well know,” said the third. “That we are the beings mortals know as ‘angels’ is also true. That Dean Winchester did not know of our existence was unfortunate, but could have been carefully rectified and would have made the transition of this year’s end easier. Instead, unneeded turmoil will make the situation difficult and may risk our losing him to the powers of evil which have so long tried to make their claim on his brother Samuel. Dean Winchester’s greatest fear, having risked suffering in what mortals call ‘hell’, is that he may become that which he currently hunts and casts out. The time before him will be unnecessarily frightening. His soul needs time and rest before it can acknowledge what it should have seen at your earlier visits.”
Finally Castiel understood the extent of his mistakes and he fell to his knees again. “My lords,” he said, truly repentant, “mere words cannot express my sorrow at realizing how great my errors have been. Please, allow me to try to repair what I have broken. I will do what I can to ensure that Dean Winchester comes into the fold.”
After a moment, he felt the warmth of a hand on his shoulder. “No, Castiel,” said the first. “What is done cannot be undone. Another will work in your stead. You are not ready for the mortal realm, I fear. We will send you back to where you have served us well in the past, back to the land of the dead. In time, we may have use of you here again.”
A second hand alighted on his shoulder and Castiel felt himself removed from his vessel’s body and flung into the ether. Zera’khi’el will not be happy to see me, he thought.
Mi’kha’el sighed, Cas’tiel’s vessel slumping over in death before him. “This should not have been,” he said to his brothers.
Gav’riel shook his head. “This was not your fault, Mi’kha’el. You could not have known that Cas’tiel was the wrong choice for this duty.”
“Indeed,” said Rap’ahel. “We all share in this end, and we will all work towards its reparation.”
U’riel simply nodded in agreement.
“If only Miri’amel was still among us,” Mi’kha’el said, sorrow in his voice. “Truly she would have been the best choice…”
“But would Dean have believed her after all this time?” U’riel asked. “And if she had not done all that she did do, even until she was vanquished from that mortal life, the man Dean has become would not exist and would hardly be beneficial to the work ahead of us.”
“He would be beneficial,” Rap’ahel disagreed, “but he would not come as easily to it. He would require significant training and education. Save for Cas’tiel’s blunders, Dean’s transition will be among the easiest this generation has known, I would wager.”
“There is some truth in that, Mi’kha’el,” Gav’riel said. “There is a kind of serendipity that these boys came to be hunters. They know how to fight. That is particularly auspicious for your lineage, brother. Given a flaming sword, these children know something of how to use it.”
Mi’kha’el was silent, considering all his brothers had said. “I think I must do it myself,” he finally said.
The other three were speechless at this announcement.
“Miri’amel was of my lineage,” Mi’kha’el said. “I was the one who allowed her to step down into the mortal plane when her heart was full of love for a mortal man. I am the one who has not fulfilled my promise to her that I would protect all her issue. I am the one who kept my distance and allowed A’zaz’el to taint Sa’mu’riel, by my inaction. I must take up my responsibility now to E’din’iel at the turn of his thirtieth year.”
“I think I speak for all when I laud this,” Rap’ahel said, smiling, “but it would be wise to remember to use the boy’s mortal name, and his brother’s as well.”
Mi’kha’el nodded. “Very well. I will call him ‘Dean’, as Miri’amel called him,” he allowed. “But the moment his wings begin to appear, he’s E’din’iel like a proper angel.”
[end]
Sequel: "He Said Unto Me"
Spoilers through 4.01 “Lazarus Rising”
Ca. 1100 words
(Because I would do something awesome for Dean’s 30th birthday in January if I were Kripke…with no offense intended towards the Abrahamic religions)
Summary: Luke 3:22-23 (minus the future messiah implications; this was the best I could do as a heathen)
“Castiel!”
Castiel turned, the wind whipping the ends of the long coat at his vessel’s legs. Before him stood four beings he did not immediately recognize but he wisely looked deeper and recognized them, the shadows of their wings rising higher than the trees. He fell to his knees in supplication. “My lords,” he cried, “tell me how I have offended and I will repent!”
The tallest of the four spoke again. “Rise, Castiel,” he ordered.
Castiel did as ordered. “My lord,” he began, but another of the four raised his hand and Castiel knew to fall silent.
“You were given a mission, Castiel,” the second said. “The manner in which you have executed it has caused unneeded strife.”
Castiel frowned. “But I have completed that mission,” he replied. “I drew Dean Winchester out of Perdition; I made contact with him on the mortal plane; I told him that there is still work for him to do on our behalf.”
“Indeed, you did,” the third said. “But his soul is now greatly troubled and there is discord among his tribe.”
“And unnecessary damage was done,” said the fourth. “The seer is blind and will never know contact with the transcendent planes again. The vessels of the unholy could have been cleansed, but now they are dead. You brought fear and distrust of our kind to those who would do our work. Your own vessel has suffered due to your irresponsibility. You have displayed your powers at moments when reining them in would have been more prudent.”
Castiel acknowledged each of the charges with a further sinking of his head, but still he was indignant: “My lords, I did as I thought was best-”
The first interrupted him: “You fail to understand the mortal race, and their modernity. You did not prepare yourself properly. Dean Winchester and his tribe do not cling to the same ideas of good and evil that their mortal ancestors held even a century ago: their experience of the supernatural necessitates a division of good and evil that somewhat resembles the reality we know to be true, and it occasionally resembles that which their less knowledgeable contemporaries believe in. The truth would have been more palatable to Dean Winchester than the moniker of divinity you gave yourself. Your shows of power will only lead to his presuming you are something other than what you are.”
“That we are officers of a power of good is true, as you well know,” said the third. “That we are the beings mortals know as ‘angels’ is also true. That Dean Winchester did not know of our existence was unfortunate, but could have been carefully rectified and would have made the transition of this year’s end easier. Instead, unneeded turmoil will make the situation difficult and may risk our losing him to the powers of evil which have so long tried to make their claim on his brother Samuel. Dean Winchester’s greatest fear, having risked suffering in what mortals call ‘hell’, is that he may become that which he currently hunts and casts out. The time before him will be unnecessarily frightening. His soul needs time and rest before it can acknowledge what it should have seen at your earlier visits.”
Finally Castiel understood the extent of his mistakes and he fell to his knees again. “My lords,” he said, truly repentant, “mere words cannot express my sorrow at realizing how great my errors have been. Please, allow me to try to repair what I have broken. I will do what I can to ensure that Dean Winchester comes into the fold.”
After a moment, he felt the warmth of a hand on his shoulder. “No, Castiel,” said the first. “What is done cannot be undone. Another will work in your stead. You are not ready for the mortal realm, I fear. We will send you back to where you have served us well in the past, back to the land of the dead. In time, we may have use of you here again.”
A second hand alighted on his shoulder and Castiel felt himself removed from his vessel’s body and flung into the ether. Zera’khi’el will not be happy to see me, he thought.
Mi’kha’el sighed, Cas’tiel’s vessel slumping over in death before him. “This should not have been,” he said to his brothers.
Gav’riel shook his head. “This was not your fault, Mi’kha’el. You could not have known that Cas’tiel was the wrong choice for this duty.”
“Indeed,” said Rap’ahel. “We all share in this end, and we will all work towards its reparation.”
U’riel simply nodded in agreement.
“If only Miri’amel was still among us,” Mi’kha’el said, sorrow in his voice. “Truly she would have been the best choice…”
“But would Dean have believed her after all this time?” U’riel asked. “And if she had not done all that she did do, even until she was vanquished from that mortal life, the man Dean has become would not exist and would hardly be beneficial to the work ahead of us.”
“He would be beneficial,” Rap’ahel disagreed, “but he would not come as easily to it. He would require significant training and education. Save for Cas’tiel’s blunders, Dean’s transition will be among the easiest this generation has known, I would wager.”
“There is some truth in that, Mi’kha’el,” Gav’riel said. “There is a kind of serendipity that these boys came to be hunters. They know how to fight. That is particularly auspicious for your lineage, brother. Given a flaming sword, these children know something of how to use it.”
Mi’kha’el was silent, considering all his brothers had said. “I think I must do it myself,” he finally said.
The other three were speechless at this announcement.
“Miri’amel was of my lineage,” Mi’kha’el said. “I was the one who allowed her to step down into the mortal plane when her heart was full of love for a mortal man. I am the one who has not fulfilled my promise to her that I would protect all her issue. I am the one who kept my distance and allowed A’zaz’el to taint Sa’mu’riel, by my inaction. I must take up my responsibility now to E’din’iel at the turn of his thirtieth year.”
“I think I speak for all when I laud this,” Rap’ahel said, smiling, “but it would be wise to remember to use the boy’s mortal name, and his brother’s as well.”
Mi’kha’el nodded. “Very well. I will call him ‘Dean’, as Miri’amel called him,” he allowed. “But the moment his wings begin to appear, he’s E’din’iel like a proper angel.”
[end]
Sequel: "He Said Unto Me"