Unexpected Destinies Chapter 61
Title: Unexpected Destinies
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 2,741
Summary: Nestled securely inside Michael's Grace, Dean wakes.
PAST
"You're letting him awaken so soon after claiming him as your vessel?" Raphael asked.
Castiel briefly wondered if his brother was deliberately misinterpreting Michael's words or whether the other alternative was simply too impossible for him to even consider. It was supposed to be after all, impossible that was, but then when had Dean ever done what he was told or expected to do? Or followed the rules?
The thought quickly vanished, though, under the veritable avalanche of new emotions that rushed through Castiel. First and foremost were a nearly overwhelming sense of relief and joy that Dean wasn't going to be forced under for so long as he knew his mate disliked not knowing what was going on or how his body was being used, but it was quickly followed by fear and horror. What would it be like for his hunter to be awake and aware but to be totally unable to do anything? That would just serve to make him feel completely helpless and he didn't want that for Dean. Especially if it would be a constant struggle for his mate as he didn't know if Michael's presence would keep trying to push down on his human's consciousness. The mere thought made him feel something strange in his stomach that he'd never experienced before and that just made him feel worse as he knew that under any other circumstances he would have turned to his mate for clarification.
"No, Brother," Michael replied. "Dean is waking on his own."
"That is not possible," Raphael protested. "The vessel is always suppressed unless you or Lucifer allow them to surface."
"This is new to me as well, but I can clearly feel him stirring within my Grace. It is not the first time he has defied all precedents and expectations."
"Is he alright?" Castiel demanded.
"He is not yet sufficiently awake for me to tell his emotional state. Just give it a few minutes, I would like to see if he can awake fully on his own."
/
Consciousness seemed to be flickering in and out as Dean felt the weirdest sense of deja vu as awareness slowly returned to him. That or he'd been floating in one of those freaking half there, half not states that certain drugs seemed to induce in him. A weird ass limbo condition that never failed to freak him the fuck out when he swung towards the more conscious end of the spectrum and realized exactly how out of it he really was. Not that he'd ever been able to wake himself from that kind of condition, but not for lack of trying. Which is what he immediately did now the moment he understood just how unnatural the haze around his mind was.
The decision took far longer to make then Dean would have liked, his mind felt sluggish as if it were working in a thick syrup rather than normal. His responses were also off, different, no wrong, somehow but he couldn't quite put his finger on how, but it just made him fight all the harder. The initial fear he'd felt was starting to morph into panic, though he tried to fight it off just like his father had always taught him to. Panic didn't help anyone, it merely undermined any self-confidence and made people disillusioned and stupid. Fear, on the other hand, was good as it sharpened the senses and increased both stamina and mental endurance. He'd been able to do many an amazing thing while afraid.
The panic was difficult to fight off, however, as Dean seemed to be totally unable to detect anything with any of his senses. Hell, he couldn't even feel what he was lying on! The fear that shot through him then at that realization was borderline panic, but he managed to keep from losing himself to it, but only just. He knew that he should be panting and his heart racing, but that didn't seem to be what was happening. He couldn't quite tell for sure, as the signals he was getting from his body appeared to be hopelessly jumbled, but it seemed like both his breathing and heart rate were normal.
Despite that realization, Dean could feel himself begin to relax. Or was it perhaps because of it? Did feeling his own steady heart rate help him regain control? Well, whatever it was, it seemed to be working and he felt more and more of his faculties begin to return to him. Ironically, it was once he'd calmed down significantly that he suddenly realized that he was too calm for the circumstances and that it was not a state he'd reached on his own. He was being influenced into it. He tension levels shot right back up and he could feel a, for now, controlled fear rising within him. Oh yeah, now that he was aware of it, he could feel the calm and soothing vibes all around him, trying to lull him into a complacent state of being.
Dean hardly even had to think about it; he fought it off with all that he had even though he was still deaf, dumb and blind. The brief question of just how he was able to sense the external calming influence without any of his senses seeming to work was put aside for later consideration. First things first after all.
"Dean, please, stop struggling," a voice suddenly pleaded.
The fact that it seemed to echo in his head rather then reach him through his ears freaked Dean the hell out, but ultimately only served to confirm his suspicions. Whatever was going on here was supernatural and he absolutely hated being supernaturally influenced.
He fought all the harder.
"No, no, hush, Little One, I am not going to hurt you."
Little One. The nickname froze Dean in place, he knew that. He'd heard it before and while it was associated with a vague sense of indignation and annoyance, there was no hatred or malice there on his part, though he could detect something else. It took him a few seconds to work out what. Fear. Before he could react to this new discovery, the world around him brightened all of a sudden and he was forced to slam his eyes shut.
Dean instinctively dropped into a defensive position, but when he was able to open his eyes and glance about, he was surprised to find himself in a motel room. His motel room, he recognized with a start as the events from the past few hours came rushing back to him. He gasped and dropped to his knees as the last set of memories returned to him, the ones of Michael taking him as his vessel.
"Shh, relax, it is okay, Dean, you are safe."
The voice broke through the memories and Dean tensed as he felt a soothing hand running up and down his back. Turning his head to the left, he found Michael crouched beside him, still inside his aunt. A quick scan- feel?- seemed to show no more supernatural influences being used and he slowly started to relax.
"Michael," Dean acknowledged. "What happened? What went wrong and where's Cas?"
"Nothing went wrong, Little One, I was able to create the connection we needed and I am now inside of you making you now my vessel. You cannot see Castiel here because this is not your real room, it is a representation of it that I recreated as I felt it might help to calm you."
Wait, what? Dean's eyes darted around the room, looking for any proof to back up the archangel's words, but found none. That didn't mean anything, however, as he'd more then a passing experience with the conjuring abilities of angels inside his head. Besides, the evidence all seemed to back Michael up: his memories and what he'd experienced just now. Only...
"How come you still look like my aunt then?" Dean questioned. "If you're in-" No, that just sound too wrong, especially with what he was doing with Michael's brother. "If I'm your vessel now."
"Because that is how you know me and I thought it best to appear to you as such."
"Oh."
Well, that made sense. Dean knew he wouldn't have calmed nearly so quickly for a complete stranger and not at all if he'd been looking at a clone of himself. Not after that whole nightmare with the African dream root, no pun intended.
"Okay, so we're in my head like a dream right now?"
"Yes," Michael replied, moving back to let him rise.
Dean took a few contemplative steps as he pondered that and tried hard not to freak out. He'd let someone into his body, he'd let an archangel in and now here he was, cut off from himself and stuck in his own head. It wasn't a place he'd ever really wanted to spend any more time then necessary, especially not since he'd gotten out of Hell. The question was why.
"Did you need something?" Dean asked.
Michael merely looked confused. "No."
"Okay, then why am I here? 'Cause I gotta say, this doesn't quite match up with what Jimmy said being a vessel was like. What happened before," Dean shuddered at the thought and tried not to think about the experience too much. "Now that seemed more like it, but not this."
"That is because this would not have been what Castiel's vessel experienced. James Novak's soul would have been suppressed by Castiel's Grace just like any normal human soul would be."
Uh oh, Dean could practically hear the italics on the word normal in that sentence and he swallowed hard before shaking his head in denial of what he strongly suspected was coming next. No, it just couldn't be! Why him, damnit? Why did all of this weird shit keep happening to him? He was starting to lose count of all of the instances in which he'd done things that 'normal' humans couldn't. Killing the Whore of Babylon, killing an angel, being able to hear angels' wings and now, apparently, something about being a vessel as well.
"Yes, Dean," Michael confirmed. "You should not be awake and aware right now, not without me having specially roused your soul from its slumber."
"And lemme guess, you didn't?"
"No."
"Fucking brilliant."
Michael frowned though Dean doubted it was because of his profanity, surprisingly that didn't seem to bother angels, at least not the ones that he'd met so far. Blasphemy on the other hand...
"You are not honored."
"You're really great at stating the obvious, you know that, Mike?"
"You should be honored, this is clearly a gift from Father."
Dean snorted. "Maybe I'd appreciate it if I knew what it was for. As it is, with all this shit cropping up all over the place, I just can't help but feeling that there's one big ass shoe out there just waiting to drop and it's not gonna be pretty."
"I do not understand."
"It means that I wanna know what all this is about, what it all means and what it's all for. I mean, it's gotta be for something, right? I wouldn't just be able to do all of this impossible stuff for nothing."
"You are the Righteous Man, Dean, the only one who can end the Apocalypse. All of this, it must be to aid you in achieving that."
It was with an effort that Dean resisted the desire to snort again, he doubted Michael even understood that particular human expression of emotion anyway so why waste the effort? Now that he thought about it and wasn't so concentrated on other, more important things, he felt very tired. That and his movements still didn't quite feel right. Nor did his surroundings for that matter, though they looked normal enough. Beneath the appearance however, there was something else, something alive almost that seemed to be constantly shifting. At first he'd thought it was around them, but from time to time he could almost feel it doing so against him even if he couldn't see anything.
With a frown, Dean narrowed his eyes at a spot on the wall and tried to... well he wasn't quite sure what it was he was trying to do, but he just went with it. It felt kinda similar to that time he'd gone all astral with Sam and learned how to interact with the physical world with his mind. For a moment he felt kinda stupid doing it, but then the wall he'd been staring at seemed to waver, growing thinner until there was a hole there that was rapidly widening and letting him see through it and beyond. For a moment all he could see was darkness, but then that too seemed to peel away and he was left staring at an intense brightness. A flash of memory had him spinning around to look at the archangel in the room with him.
"Is that your Grace?" Dean demanded.
"Yes. Where do you think you are, Dean? Your soul is currently wrapped in my Grace inside your body."
"Why?"
Michael's head tilted to one side. "To protect it, of course. This way I can ensure that nothing happens to it while you are my vessel."
The words made Dean swallow and he turned to look at the hole in the wall and the Grace beyond it. More and more of his current situation was starting to sink in and he wasn't sure he liked it. So what if he could stay awake and aware while Michael rode around in his meatsuit? That didn't mean much if he was stuck here, completely unable to do anything.
"So now what? I assume you can't be both here and out there at the same time, right?"
"It is not so much that I am in two places at once as focusing on two things at the same time," Michael clarified. "I am still in you. Picture it like thinking deeply about something while still interacting with those around you."
"Okay, so you're all set then. What am I supposed to do? Just sit here and entertain myself? 'Cause I gotta say, I'm not really very good at that and am liable to get myself into trouble." There was a ripple of something along his... his soul? Whatever it was, there was something there that made him shiver as the corners of Michael's mouth curved upwards slightly. "What the hell was that?"
"What was what?"
"That... that... feeling just then."
Michael's eyes narrowed and then the light coming through the hole in the wall pulsed and Dean jumped as it happened again, whatever the fuck it was.
"Interesting."
"Michael."
"That was me you felt, my Grace and potentially some of my emotions."
Dean blinked at that. "What?"
"Though I suppose it makes sense that the connection would go both ways, given how closely bonded we are right now."
"Both ways? Wait, you can sense stuff from me?"
"Only your stronger emotions, not everything you feel."
"Well isn't that just dandy."
"This is as new to me as it is to you, Dean. I have never shared this kind of connection with a vessel before, but it does make me wonder."
"What?" Dean asked as Michael moved closer until they were standing only a few inches apart.
"In my other vessels, if I bring them awake, I am able to forge a link between their souls and bodies. It is not the one that normally exists as that has to be suppressed when I am in them, but it does allow them to experience the outside world."
The words instantly made Dean perk up. "Are you saying I'd be able to see and hear what's going on?"
"If it works, yes. I have never done this before on a soul that I did not wake myself, but I would like to try if you will permit me to."
"Hell yes!"
"You will need to relax and not fight me."
Okay, that might be a bit harder to achieve, especially with what had happened before (no, he wasn't going to think about that now!), but Dean was determined to do it. If he had to chose between some more pain and being stuck in limbo here until Michael and the others managed to do what was necessary, then he'd definitely take the pain any day of the week.
"Go for it."
Chapter 62
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 2,741
Summary: Nestled securely inside Michael's Grace, Dean wakes.
PAST
"You're letting him awaken so soon after claiming him as your vessel?" Raphael asked.
Castiel briefly wondered if his brother was deliberately misinterpreting Michael's words or whether the other alternative was simply too impossible for him to even consider. It was supposed to be after all, impossible that was, but then when had Dean ever done what he was told or expected to do? Or followed the rules?
The thought quickly vanished, though, under the veritable avalanche of new emotions that rushed through Castiel. First and foremost were a nearly overwhelming sense of relief and joy that Dean wasn't going to be forced under for so long as he knew his mate disliked not knowing what was going on or how his body was being used, but it was quickly followed by fear and horror. What would it be like for his hunter to be awake and aware but to be totally unable to do anything? That would just serve to make him feel completely helpless and he didn't want that for Dean. Especially if it would be a constant struggle for his mate as he didn't know if Michael's presence would keep trying to push down on his human's consciousness. The mere thought made him feel something strange in his stomach that he'd never experienced before and that just made him feel worse as he knew that under any other circumstances he would have turned to his mate for clarification.
"No, Brother," Michael replied. "Dean is waking on his own."
"That is not possible," Raphael protested. "The vessel is always suppressed unless you or Lucifer allow them to surface."
"This is new to me as well, but I can clearly feel him stirring within my Grace. It is not the first time he has defied all precedents and expectations."
"Is he alright?" Castiel demanded.
"He is not yet sufficiently awake for me to tell his emotional state. Just give it a few minutes, I would like to see if he can awake fully on his own."
/
Consciousness seemed to be flickering in and out as Dean felt the weirdest sense of deja vu as awareness slowly returned to him. That or he'd been floating in one of those freaking half there, half not states that certain drugs seemed to induce in him. A weird ass limbo condition that never failed to freak him the fuck out when he swung towards the more conscious end of the spectrum and realized exactly how out of it he really was. Not that he'd ever been able to wake himself from that kind of condition, but not for lack of trying. Which is what he immediately did now the moment he understood just how unnatural the haze around his mind was.
The decision took far longer to make then Dean would have liked, his mind felt sluggish as if it were working in a thick syrup rather than normal. His responses were also off, different, no wrong, somehow but he couldn't quite put his finger on how, but it just made him fight all the harder. The initial fear he'd felt was starting to morph into panic, though he tried to fight it off just like his father had always taught him to. Panic didn't help anyone, it merely undermined any self-confidence and made people disillusioned and stupid. Fear, on the other hand, was good as it sharpened the senses and increased both stamina and mental endurance. He'd been able to do many an amazing thing while afraid.
The panic was difficult to fight off, however, as Dean seemed to be totally unable to detect anything with any of his senses. Hell, he couldn't even feel what he was lying on! The fear that shot through him then at that realization was borderline panic, but he managed to keep from losing himself to it, but only just. He knew that he should be panting and his heart racing, but that didn't seem to be what was happening. He couldn't quite tell for sure, as the signals he was getting from his body appeared to be hopelessly jumbled, but it seemed like both his breathing and heart rate were normal.
Despite that realization, Dean could feel himself begin to relax. Or was it perhaps because of it? Did feeling his own steady heart rate help him regain control? Well, whatever it was, it seemed to be working and he felt more and more of his faculties begin to return to him. Ironically, it was once he'd calmed down significantly that he suddenly realized that he was too calm for the circumstances and that it was not a state he'd reached on his own. He was being influenced into it. He tension levels shot right back up and he could feel a, for now, controlled fear rising within him. Oh yeah, now that he was aware of it, he could feel the calm and soothing vibes all around him, trying to lull him into a complacent state of being.
Dean hardly even had to think about it; he fought it off with all that he had even though he was still deaf, dumb and blind. The brief question of just how he was able to sense the external calming influence without any of his senses seeming to work was put aside for later consideration. First things first after all.
"Dean, please, stop struggling," a voice suddenly pleaded.
The fact that it seemed to echo in his head rather then reach him through his ears freaked Dean the hell out, but ultimately only served to confirm his suspicions. Whatever was going on here was supernatural and he absolutely hated being supernaturally influenced.
He fought all the harder.
"No, no, hush, Little One, I am not going to hurt you."
Little One. The nickname froze Dean in place, he knew that. He'd heard it before and while it was associated with a vague sense of indignation and annoyance, there was no hatred or malice there on his part, though he could detect something else. It took him a few seconds to work out what. Fear. Before he could react to this new discovery, the world around him brightened all of a sudden and he was forced to slam his eyes shut.
Dean instinctively dropped into a defensive position, but when he was able to open his eyes and glance about, he was surprised to find himself in a motel room. His motel room, he recognized with a start as the events from the past few hours came rushing back to him. He gasped and dropped to his knees as the last set of memories returned to him, the ones of Michael taking him as his vessel.
"Shh, relax, it is okay, Dean, you are safe."
The voice broke through the memories and Dean tensed as he felt a soothing hand running up and down his back. Turning his head to the left, he found Michael crouched beside him, still inside his aunt. A quick scan- feel?- seemed to show no more supernatural influences being used and he slowly started to relax.
"Michael," Dean acknowledged. "What happened? What went wrong and where's Cas?"
"Nothing went wrong, Little One, I was able to create the connection we needed and I am now inside of you making you now my vessel. You cannot see Castiel here because this is not your real room, it is a representation of it that I recreated as I felt it might help to calm you."
Wait, what? Dean's eyes darted around the room, looking for any proof to back up the archangel's words, but found none. That didn't mean anything, however, as he'd more then a passing experience with the conjuring abilities of angels inside his head. Besides, the evidence all seemed to back Michael up: his memories and what he'd experienced just now. Only...
"How come you still look like my aunt then?" Dean questioned. "If you're in-" No, that just sound too wrong, especially with what he was doing with Michael's brother. "If I'm your vessel now."
"Because that is how you know me and I thought it best to appear to you as such."
"Oh."
Well, that made sense. Dean knew he wouldn't have calmed nearly so quickly for a complete stranger and not at all if he'd been looking at a clone of himself. Not after that whole nightmare with the African dream root, no pun intended.
"Okay, so we're in my head like a dream right now?"
"Yes," Michael replied, moving back to let him rise.
Dean took a few contemplative steps as he pondered that and tried hard not to freak out. He'd let someone into his body, he'd let an archangel in and now here he was, cut off from himself and stuck in his own head. It wasn't a place he'd ever really wanted to spend any more time then necessary, especially not since he'd gotten out of Hell. The question was why.
"Did you need something?" Dean asked.
Michael merely looked confused. "No."
"Okay, then why am I here? 'Cause I gotta say, this doesn't quite match up with what Jimmy said being a vessel was like. What happened before," Dean shuddered at the thought and tried not to think about the experience too much. "Now that seemed more like it, but not this."
"That is because this would not have been what Castiel's vessel experienced. James Novak's soul would have been suppressed by Castiel's Grace just like any normal human soul would be."
Uh oh, Dean could practically hear the italics on the word normal in that sentence and he swallowed hard before shaking his head in denial of what he strongly suspected was coming next. No, it just couldn't be! Why him, damnit? Why did all of this weird shit keep happening to him? He was starting to lose count of all of the instances in which he'd done things that 'normal' humans couldn't. Killing the Whore of Babylon, killing an angel, being able to hear angels' wings and now, apparently, something about being a vessel as well.
"Yes, Dean," Michael confirmed. "You should not be awake and aware right now, not without me having specially roused your soul from its slumber."
"And lemme guess, you didn't?"
"No."
"Fucking brilliant."
Michael frowned though Dean doubted it was because of his profanity, surprisingly that didn't seem to bother angels, at least not the ones that he'd met so far. Blasphemy on the other hand...
"You are not honored."
"You're really great at stating the obvious, you know that, Mike?"
"You should be honored, this is clearly a gift from Father."
Dean snorted. "Maybe I'd appreciate it if I knew what it was for. As it is, with all this shit cropping up all over the place, I just can't help but feeling that there's one big ass shoe out there just waiting to drop and it's not gonna be pretty."
"I do not understand."
"It means that I wanna know what all this is about, what it all means and what it's all for. I mean, it's gotta be for something, right? I wouldn't just be able to do all of this impossible stuff for nothing."
"You are the Righteous Man, Dean, the only one who can end the Apocalypse. All of this, it must be to aid you in achieving that."
It was with an effort that Dean resisted the desire to snort again, he doubted Michael even understood that particular human expression of emotion anyway so why waste the effort? Now that he thought about it and wasn't so concentrated on other, more important things, he felt very tired. That and his movements still didn't quite feel right. Nor did his surroundings for that matter, though they looked normal enough. Beneath the appearance however, there was something else, something alive almost that seemed to be constantly shifting. At first he'd thought it was around them, but from time to time he could almost feel it doing so against him even if he couldn't see anything.
With a frown, Dean narrowed his eyes at a spot on the wall and tried to... well he wasn't quite sure what it was he was trying to do, but he just went with it. It felt kinda similar to that time he'd gone all astral with Sam and learned how to interact with the physical world with his mind. For a moment he felt kinda stupid doing it, but then the wall he'd been staring at seemed to waver, growing thinner until there was a hole there that was rapidly widening and letting him see through it and beyond. For a moment all he could see was darkness, but then that too seemed to peel away and he was left staring at an intense brightness. A flash of memory had him spinning around to look at the archangel in the room with him.
"Is that your Grace?" Dean demanded.
"Yes. Where do you think you are, Dean? Your soul is currently wrapped in my Grace inside your body."
"Why?"
Michael's head tilted to one side. "To protect it, of course. This way I can ensure that nothing happens to it while you are my vessel."
The words made Dean swallow and he turned to look at the hole in the wall and the Grace beyond it. More and more of his current situation was starting to sink in and he wasn't sure he liked it. So what if he could stay awake and aware while Michael rode around in his meatsuit? That didn't mean much if he was stuck here, completely unable to do anything.
"So now what? I assume you can't be both here and out there at the same time, right?"
"It is not so much that I am in two places at once as focusing on two things at the same time," Michael clarified. "I am still in you. Picture it like thinking deeply about something while still interacting with those around you."
"Okay, so you're all set then. What am I supposed to do? Just sit here and entertain myself? 'Cause I gotta say, I'm not really very good at that and am liable to get myself into trouble." There was a ripple of something along his... his soul? Whatever it was, there was something there that made him shiver as the corners of Michael's mouth curved upwards slightly. "What the hell was that?"
"What was what?"
"That... that... feeling just then."
Michael's eyes narrowed and then the light coming through the hole in the wall pulsed and Dean jumped as it happened again, whatever the fuck it was.
"Interesting."
"Michael."
"That was me you felt, my Grace and potentially some of my emotions."
Dean blinked at that. "What?"
"Though I suppose it makes sense that the connection would go both ways, given how closely bonded we are right now."
"Both ways? Wait, you can sense stuff from me?"
"Only your stronger emotions, not everything you feel."
"Well isn't that just dandy."
"This is as new to me as it is to you, Dean. I have never shared this kind of connection with a vessel before, but it does make me wonder."
"What?" Dean asked as Michael moved closer until they were standing only a few inches apart.
"In my other vessels, if I bring them awake, I am able to forge a link between their souls and bodies. It is not the one that normally exists as that has to be suppressed when I am in them, but it does allow them to experience the outside world."
The words instantly made Dean perk up. "Are you saying I'd be able to see and hear what's going on?"
"If it works, yes. I have never done this before on a soul that I did not wake myself, but I would like to try if you will permit me to."
"Hell yes!"
"You will need to relax and not fight me."
Okay, that might be a bit harder to achieve, especially with what had happened before (no, he wasn't going to think about that now!), but Dean was determined to do it. If he had to chose between some more pain and being stuck in limbo here until Michael and the others managed to do what was necessary, then he'd definitely take the pain any day of the week.
"Go for it."
Chapter 62