Unexpected Destinies Chapter 64
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: 2,605
Summary: Michael shows Dean some of the perks of being a vessel.
PAST
The darkness around them was lightening and Dean wondered if that was due to his mood. He preferred the Grace light even if it was really alien as it was soothing in some odd way. It was as he relaxed that he thought of something else.
"Hey, wait a minute," Dean said. "You didn't like seeing Gabriel's DVD."
The shudder that Dean felt around him was more then enough to confirm his words even without the horror and disgust that leaked through as well.
"Is there a reason you are bringing this up now?" Michael asked.
"Yeah, if you hated that, then why were you trying to look at my memories of Cas and me?"
"You think that is what I was looking for?"
"Well, what else would you want to see?"
Michael looked at him fondly. "So human."
"Damn right I am."
"I wanted to see how you are with your mate, when you are alone together."
"The chick flick stuff," Dean snorted. "Well that figures. I guess you guys need to be like the popular human image of angels in at least one way."
"You are embarrassed," Michael stated, head tilted. "Why are you embarrassed?"
"'Cause guys don't talk about that stuff, well not unless they're little bitches like Sam anyway."
"Why not?"
"Just 'cause."
"I do not understand. You care for him, you have made that abundantly clear already, so why do you continue to deny it?"
"Dude, knock it off."
The fact that Dean couldn't even make himself sound properly annoyed bothered him somewhat. He was letting Michael get away with far too much just now. It was probably due to the subject matter. Even though he'd never really admitted his feelings for Castiel to anyone else, just thinking about them and his lover in general, made it very difficult to feel any kind of negative emotions. Still, it wasn't something he felt comfortable discussing just yet and especially not with Castiel's big brother of all people. The thought did make him frown though as he took stock of what he'd felt of his body before. Or rather of what he hadn't felt. Wanting to be sure he'd gotten it right, he concentrated on reconnecting with his meatsuit and felt a weird shift before he could suddenly see the room again as well as hear and smell everything that went with it.
"Mike, did you change anything when you took control?"
"I healed a few minor injuries."
Of course he did. Dean should have known that the archangel wouldn't be able to differentiate between a true injury and a hickey or the welcome burn from fantastic sex.
"Was that wrong?"
"No, not really. So, were my arteries and liver really that bad?"
"I have not yet had a chance to look at that. You started stirring before I could get to it."
"Oh, okay."
"It does remind me of something else. Are you ready for the next step? You seem to have adjusted to being an aware vessel very well so far."
"If you consider my freak out 'well' then sure," Dean replied. "What next bit?"
"Angelic senses. You know that we are able to see each other's wings and, to a certain extent, each other even within a vessel and yet you could see neither earlier with Raphael and your mate."
"You've been toning it down?"
Dean couldn't help the shiver that went through him at the thought of finally getting to see his lover's wings. It was something he'd wanted for so long now that it seemed unreal that he'd actually be able to do so now.
"Yes, I did not wish to overwhelm you all at once."
"Thanks for that."
"Are you ready then?"
"Huh? They're not here right now."
"No, but that is not the only thing that will change."
"Oh, okay, hit me with it."
There was a brief moment of confusion where Dean realized that his word choice didn't make sense to the archangel, before Michael released his hold on his power or whatever he'd done to suppress his senses. The room seemed to shimmer before his eyes for a moment before everything seemed to become sharper and, not quite brighter, but it was the closest word he had for what happened. Suddenly he could see every last fiber in the carpet and make out the dust particles themselves floating in the air. The clarity startled him and made him wonder how Castiel could find anything so fascinating and wonderful if he could detect every last flaw in it so effortlessly.
In addition to the change in his sight, there were similar changes to his hearing and sense of smell. He could hear people moving about and talking in the rooms on either side of his as well as outside in the parking lot. The smells that assaulted him made him wish he could sneeze. There was bleach and chlorine, musk, sweat, sex and various compounds he didn't want to identify, but the strongest smell was that of himself and his deodorant and antiperspirant. Given his job, he needed a pretty powerful one and it's scent was quite distinctive.
"Crap that's weird," Dean finally said when he'd sorted through everything.
"I can empathize with the sentiment," Michael stated, bringing his hand up and looking at it before closing the fingers into a fist. "Having you as my vessel is unlike anything I have ever experienced before."
"Yeah?"
"You fit in a way none of the others have. There is actually enough room for my Grace to move instead of being squeezed into far too small of a receptacle."
"Oh, glad I could help."
"Do you want to see yourself now?"
"See myself?" Dean asked before he started. "Wait, I've got wings now with you here, don't I?"
"Yes."
"Yes, lemme see."
Obligingly, Michael moved to stand before the large mirror hanging above the room's single chest of drawers. Dean's breath caught in his throat- or rather it seemed like it did anyway- as he caught sight of their reflection. Arching out from his back were multiple pairs of large wings. He couldn't quite tell how many there were, but he remembered Zachariah boasting that he had six pairs so it made sense that archangels had more. The size of some of them, though, made what he'd seen of Castiel's back in the barn seem small. They moved as he watched and it took him a moment to realize that Michael was preening.
"Dude!" Dean laughed. "Enjoying yourself?"
"It is not often we can show our wings to a human."
"Cas said something about them being special and that you don't let people touch them."
"They are, but you are my vessel," Michael replied. "Do you want to know what they feel like?"
"Sure. How?"
Instead of replying, Michael bent one of the wings so that it wrapped around them and the tip was stretched out before them. The archangel then reached up to touch it and Dean was startled at how soft the feathers felt. He'd expected them to be harsher, more like birds' feathers, but he should have realized that angels wouldn't follow the normal rules. What really surprised him, though, was the fact that he could feel the touch of his hand on the wing. It took him a moment to work out that was what he felt, but he could definitely feel it. It sent a little shiver through him even as it boggled his mind.
"Why are they this light brown color?" Dean inquired. "What I saw of Cas' was black."
"That is because Castiel's vessel has black hair."
Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise, or well they would have if he'd had control of a meatsuit at that particular moment. "The vessel determines the color of the wings?"
"The vessel determines the appearance of their semi-physical manifestation. Remember, we are more like light or energy in our true form then anything else."
That made sense and now that Dean looked, he could see the variation in the feather color that matched his hair with hints of blond and bronze along with the pale brown. Huh.
"So I take it Raphael's are black too?"
"Yes."
Slowly Dean's attention wandered from the reflection of the wings to that of his actual meatsuit. It was a bit of a shock to see his own face and body held in such a stiff and, to him, unnatural posture. It was instant, visual confirmation that he wasn't the one in control right now. Beyond that, however, his attention was captured by the glow. He almost looked like a fucking firefly.
"You're bright," Dean stated.
"I am only responsible for part of that. The rest of it is from the light of your soul."
"Very funny." He could feel Michael frowning and glanced up at the mirror to confirm it. "What?"
"Castiel had mentioned your lack of faith in the state of your soul, but I found it so hard to believe."
"Michael."
"You have the brightest soul I have ever seen before. If you will permit me, I shall show you."
"What?"
"I should be able to project my memories to you as you have done to me earlier."
"Sure."
Dean wasn't sure he believed it, but it didn't hurt to let Michael try. He was suddenly back in the dark again before a familiar scene formed around them. It was from one of the archangel's visits a few weeks ago. He ignored their surroundings and the conversation in favor of staring himself. Although the glow wasn't nearly as bright, it was still clearly there like he was some kind of light.
"Really?" Dean finally questioned. "This is for real?"
"Yes, Little One."
The nickname drew another scowl from Dean but his heart wasn't in it. Did he really look like that to an angel? "What do other people look like?"
"That depends on the person, With some it is impossible to even see their soul, but with others there are flashes of it at times."
The world around them changed once more and Dean found that he much preferred this to travel by Angel Air as he got to stay right where he was. The new scene was unfamiliar to him, but it was outside somewhere near a park and there were a lot of people walking about. Because this was one of Michael's memories, he had no choice but to look where the archangel had looked, but he still saw plenty of people. Helpfully, Michael's eyes had also followed those with brighter souls. He swallowed as he realized exactly how much brighter he seemed to shine compared to even the brightest soul he saw here.
"This is a normal selection of what you see?"
"Yes."
The thought of his own soul being like that made him more then a little uncomfortable. What had he ever done to deserve that? He really couldn't think of anything while he could easily think of plenty of things he'd done to not deserve it. Someone obviously disagreed with him though. He now had irrevocable proof of that, or at least it seemed like he did.
"Are brighter souls really so different from the others?"
"Dean."
The tone of Michael's voice made Dean want to hunch up but he resisted the impulse. "Well, I wouldn't know, now would I? It's not like I've got any good experience with that."
The memory faded and a Deirdre-looking Michael appeared before him. "Why do you find it so hard to believe in your own worth?"
"You weren't there, you didn't see what I did in Hell."
"Castiel did and you cannot seem to believe him."
"He only saw part of it and he's biased."
"Dean, you have been forgive for that."
"Why?" Dean asked, voice smaller then he liked.
"Because it was not your fault. It was Hell and you were given to Alastair for the specific purpose of breaking the first seal. He was Hell's Chief Inquisitor for a reason and to be the sole focus of his attention is difficult for anyone. No one would not have broken."
"Dad didn't."
"Your father was neither given Alastair's sole attention nor was he given the opportunity to get off the rack. Many souls are never given the chance to get off the rack and are just tortured until they are demons, weak demons, but demons nonetheless."
"He wasn't? Alastair..." Dean closed his eyes. "He lied, didn't he?"
"Yes. Though your father was a good man at heart, he was not righteous. Even if he had been given the chance to pick up the knife and did so, he would not have broken the seal, only you could do that."
"But... he never lied before. It was one thing that I always hated as I wanted to be able to catch him in a lie just once."
"After that he could be sure that you would believe this one. Did he tell you this when Uriel and Castiel had captured him?"
"Yeah," Dean sighed. "So how are you feeling? Any better?"
"I am recovered now. Let me see about healing the rest of you."
With a thought, Dean reconnected himself with his senses and then tried to follow what Michael was doing. Most of it was far too complex, but he did feel a tingling sensation deep within him where he'd never really felt anything before. The parts that he could immediately identify were the flares of pain from his heart and liver. He grunted in surprise but it was over almost as soon as he was aware of it.
"You should not drink as much," Michael said in his true voice.
"Yeah, yeah, I'd say none of your business, but Cas has already beaten you to it."
"Good. As for what you eat-"
"No, we're not going there."
"Dean."
"Not happening, Mike. I like what I eat."
"Even if it harms you?"
"Well I've got a clean slate now, don't I?"
"You were on your way to a heart attack."
"Believe me, I know, had it already, actually."
At Michael's confusion, Dean brought up the memory and tried to push it at the archangel. It felt weird when Michael dipped into it, but it was easier then trying to explain it all.
"I see," Michael said when he pulled out of it. "And you still choose to eat things that cause that?"
"Life is short for humans, Mike, and shorter still for hunters. I don't really expect to live long enough for it to ever be an issue. So why shouldn't I eat what I like? It's all about the simple pleasures as far as I'm concerned."
"Do not speak like that, you do not know that you will die soon."
Dean was surprised as the sheer vehemence behind those words. "I'm just being realistic here, is all. This whole Apocalypse hasn't exactly lengthened my life expectancy any either, in fact it's done rather the opposite, what with almost everyone gunning for my guts."
"You know that Castiel and I shall do everything within our power to prevent anything from happening to you, do you not? And even if you do not believe it, Raphael will do all that he can to protect you as well."
"Yeah."
It was all that Dean could force past his lips. The fierceness and protectiveness that seemed to wrap around him rendering him effectively speechless. If Michael felt so strongly about him like this, then what did Castiel feel? He could only imagine the extent of his lover's feelings and it made him swallow.
A.N.: I'm not sure if you guys have been paying attention to the little flag counter on the right hand side bar, but it's at nearly 100,000 unique hits since I started this journal less then six months ago. And it has 86 countries listed. Thanks guys, you rock!
Chapter 65
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 2,605
Summary: Michael shows Dean some of the perks of being a vessel.
PAST
The darkness around them was lightening and Dean wondered if that was due to his mood. He preferred the Grace light even if it was really alien as it was soothing in some odd way. It was as he relaxed that he thought of something else.
"Hey, wait a minute," Dean said. "You didn't like seeing Gabriel's DVD."
The shudder that Dean felt around him was more then enough to confirm his words even without the horror and disgust that leaked through as well.
"Is there a reason you are bringing this up now?" Michael asked.
"Yeah, if you hated that, then why were you trying to look at my memories of Cas and me?"
"You think that is what I was looking for?"
"Well, what else would you want to see?"
Michael looked at him fondly. "So human."
"Damn right I am."
"I wanted to see how you are with your mate, when you are alone together."
"The chick flick stuff," Dean snorted. "Well that figures. I guess you guys need to be like the popular human image of angels in at least one way."
"You are embarrassed," Michael stated, head tilted. "Why are you embarrassed?"
"'Cause guys don't talk about that stuff, well not unless they're little bitches like Sam anyway."
"Why not?"
"Just 'cause."
"I do not understand. You care for him, you have made that abundantly clear already, so why do you continue to deny it?"
"Dude, knock it off."
The fact that Dean couldn't even make himself sound properly annoyed bothered him somewhat. He was letting Michael get away with far too much just now. It was probably due to the subject matter. Even though he'd never really admitted his feelings for Castiel to anyone else, just thinking about them and his lover in general, made it very difficult to feel any kind of negative emotions. Still, it wasn't something he felt comfortable discussing just yet and especially not with Castiel's big brother of all people. The thought did make him frown though as he took stock of what he'd felt of his body before. Or rather of what he hadn't felt. Wanting to be sure he'd gotten it right, he concentrated on reconnecting with his meatsuit and felt a weird shift before he could suddenly see the room again as well as hear and smell everything that went with it.
"Mike, did you change anything when you took control?"
"I healed a few minor injuries."
Of course he did. Dean should have known that the archangel wouldn't be able to differentiate between a true injury and a hickey or the welcome burn from fantastic sex.
"Was that wrong?"
"No, not really. So, were my arteries and liver really that bad?"
"I have not yet had a chance to look at that. You started stirring before I could get to it."
"Oh, okay."
"It does remind me of something else. Are you ready for the next step? You seem to have adjusted to being an aware vessel very well so far."
"If you consider my freak out 'well' then sure," Dean replied. "What next bit?"
"Angelic senses. You know that we are able to see each other's wings and, to a certain extent, each other even within a vessel and yet you could see neither earlier with Raphael and your mate."
"You've been toning it down?"
Dean couldn't help the shiver that went through him at the thought of finally getting to see his lover's wings. It was something he'd wanted for so long now that it seemed unreal that he'd actually be able to do so now.
"Yes, I did not wish to overwhelm you all at once."
"Thanks for that."
"Are you ready then?"
"Huh? They're not here right now."
"No, but that is not the only thing that will change."
"Oh, okay, hit me with it."
There was a brief moment of confusion where Dean realized that his word choice didn't make sense to the archangel, before Michael released his hold on his power or whatever he'd done to suppress his senses. The room seemed to shimmer before his eyes for a moment before everything seemed to become sharper and, not quite brighter, but it was the closest word he had for what happened. Suddenly he could see every last fiber in the carpet and make out the dust particles themselves floating in the air. The clarity startled him and made him wonder how Castiel could find anything so fascinating and wonderful if he could detect every last flaw in it so effortlessly.
In addition to the change in his sight, there were similar changes to his hearing and sense of smell. He could hear people moving about and talking in the rooms on either side of his as well as outside in the parking lot. The smells that assaulted him made him wish he could sneeze. There was bleach and chlorine, musk, sweat, sex and various compounds he didn't want to identify, but the strongest smell was that of himself and his deodorant and antiperspirant. Given his job, he needed a pretty powerful one and it's scent was quite distinctive.
"Crap that's weird," Dean finally said when he'd sorted through everything.
"I can empathize with the sentiment," Michael stated, bringing his hand up and looking at it before closing the fingers into a fist. "Having you as my vessel is unlike anything I have ever experienced before."
"Yeah?"
"You fit in a way none of the others have. There is actually enough room for my Grace to move instead of being squeezed into far too small of a receptacle."
"Oh, glad I could help."
"Do you want to see yourself now?"
"See myself?" Dean asked before he started. "Wait, I've got wings now with you here, don't I?"
"Yes."
"Yes, lemme see."
Obligingly, Michael moved to stand before the large mirror hanging above the room's single chest of drawers. Dean's breath caught in his throat- or rather it seemed like it did anyway- as he caught sight of their reflection. Arching out from his back were multiple pairs of large wings. He couldn't quite tell how many there were, but he remembered Zachariah boasting that he had six pairs so it made sense that archangels had more. The size of some of them, though, made what he'd seen of Castiel's back in the barn seem small. They moved as he watched and it took him a moment to realize that Michael was preening.
"Dude!" Dean laughed. "Enjoying yourself?"
"It is not often we can show our wings to a human."
"Cas said something about them being special and that you don't let people touch them."
"They are, but you are my vessel," Michael replied. "Do you want to know what they feel like?"
"Sure. How?"
Instead of replying, Michael bent one of the wings so that it wrapped around them and the tip was stretched out before them. The archangel then reached up to touch it and Dean was startled at how soft the feathers felt. He'd expected them to be harsher, more like birds' feathers, but he should have realized that angels wouldn't follow the normal rules. What really surprised him, though, was the fact that he could feel the touch of his hand on the wing. It took him a moment to work out that was what he felt, but he could definitely feel it. It sent a little shiver through him even as it boggled his mind.
"Why are they this light brown color?" Dean inquired. "What I saw of Cas' was black."
"That is because Castiel's vessel has black hair."
Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise, or well they would have if he'd had control of a meatsuit at that particular moment. "The vessel determines the color of the wings?"
"The vessel determines the appearance of their semi-physical manifestation. Remember, we are more like light or energy in our true form then anything else."
That made sense and now that Dean looked, he could see the variation in the feather color that matched his hair with hints of blond and bronze along with the pale brown. Huh.
"So I take it Raphael's are black too?"
"Yes."
Slowly Dean's attention wandered from the reflection of the wings to that of his actual meatsuit. It was a bit of a shock to see his own face and body held in such a stiff and, to him, unnatural posture. It was instant, visual confirmation that he wasn't the one in control right now. Beyond that, however, his attention was captured by the glow. He almost looked like a fucking firefly.
"You're bright," Dean stated.
"I am only responsible for part of that. The rest of it is from the light of your soul."
"Very funny." He could feel Michael frowning and glanced up at the mirror to confirm it. "What?"
"Castiel had mentioned your lack of faith in the state of your soul, but I found it so hard to believe."
"Michael."
"You have the brightest soul I have ever seen before. If you will permit me, I shall show you."
"What?"
"I should be able to project my memories to you as you have done to me earlier."
"Sure."
Dean wasn't sure he believed it, but it didn't hurt to let Michael try. He was suddenly back in the dark again before a familiar scene formed around them. It was from one of the archangel's visits a few weeks ago. He ignored their surroundings and the conversation in favor of staring himself. Although the glow wasn't nearly as bright, it was still clearly there like he was some kind of light.
"Really?" Dean finally questioned. "This is for real?"
"Yes, Little One."
The nickname drew another scowl from Dean but his heart wasn't in it. Did he really look like that to an angel? "What do other people look like?"
"That depends on the person, With some it is impossible to even see their soul, but with others there are flashes of it at times."
The world around them changed once more and Dean found that he much preferred this to travel by Angel Air as he got to stay right where he was. The new scene was unfamiliar to him, but it was outside somewhere near a park and there were a lot of people walking about. Because this was one of Michael's memories, he had no choice but to look where the archangel had looked, but he still saw plenty of people. Helpfully, Michael's eyes had also followed those with brighter souls. He swallowed as he realized exactly how much brighter he seemed to shine compared to even the brightest soul he saw here.
"This is a normal selection of what you see?"
"Yes."
The thought of his own soul being like that made him more then a little uncomfortable. What had he ever done to deserve that? He really couldn't think of anything while he could easily think of plenty of things he'd done to not deserve it. Someone obviously disagreed with him though. He now had irrevocable proof of that, or at least it seemed like he did.
"Are brighter souls really so different from the others?"
"Dean."
The tone of Michael's voice made Dean want to hunch up but he resisted the impulse. "Well, I wouldn't know, now would I? It's not like I've got any good experience with that."
The memory faded and a Deirdre-looking Michael appeared before him. "Why do you find it so hard to believe in your own worth?"
"You weren't there, you didn't see what I did in Hell."
"Castiel did and you cannot seem to believe him."
"He only saw part of it and he's biased."
"Dean, you have been forgive for that."
"Why?" Dean asked, voice smaller then he liked.
"Because it was not your fault. It was Hell and you were given to Alastair for the specific purpose of breaking the first seal. He was Hell's Chief Inquisitor for a reason and to be the sole focus of his attention is difficult for anyone. No one would not have broken."
"Dad didn't."
"Your father was neither given Alastair's sole attention nor was he given the opportunity to get off the rack. Many souls are never given the chance to get off the rack and are just tortured until they are demons, weak demons, but demons nonetheless."
"He wasn't? Alastair..." Dean closed his eyes. "He lied, didn't he?"
"Yes. Though your father was a good man at heart, he was not righteous. Even if he had been given the chance to pick up the knife and did so, he would not have broken the seal, only you could do that."
"But... he never lied before. It was one thing that I always hated as I wanted to be able to catch him in a lie just once."
"After that he could be sure that you would believe this one. Did he tell you this when Uriel and Castiel had captured him?"
"Yeah," Dean sighed. "So how are you feeling? Any better?"
"I am recovered now. Let me see about healing the rest of you."
With a thought, Dean reconnected himself with his senses and then tried to follow what Michael was doing. Most of it was far too complex, but he did feel a tingling sensation deep within him where he'd never really felt anything before. The parts that he could immediately identify were the flares of pain from his heart and liver. He grunted in surprise but it was over almost as soon as he was aware of it.
"You should not drink as much," Michael said in his true voice.
"Yeah, yeah, I'd say none of your business, but Cas has already beaten you to it."
"Good. As for what you eat-"
"No, we're not going there."
"Dean."
"Not happening, Mike. I like what I eat."
"Even if it harms you?"
"Well I've got a clean slate now, don't I?"
"You were on your way to a heart attack."
"Believe me, I know, had it already, actually."
At Michael's confusion, Dean brought up the memory and tried to push it at the archangel. It felt weird when Michael dipped into it, but it was easier then trying to explain it all.
"I see," Michael said when he pulled out of it. "And you still choose to eat things that cause that?"
"Life is short for humans, Mike, and shorter still for hunters. I don't really expect to live long enough for it to ever be an issue. So why shouldn't I eat what I like? It's all about the simple pleasures as far as I'm concerned."
"Do not speak like that, you do not know that you will die soon."
Dean was surprised as the sheer vehemence behind those words. "I'm just being realistic here, is all. This whole Apocalypse hasn't exactly lengthened my life expectancy any either, in fact it's done rather the opposite, what with almost everyone gunning for my guts."
"You know that Castiel and I shall do everything within our power to prevent anything from happening to you, do you not? And even if you do not believe it, Raphael will do all that he can to protect you as well."
"Yeah."
It was all that Dean could force past his lips. The fierceness and protectiveness that seemed to wrap around him rendering him effectively speechless. If Michael felt so strongly about him like this, then what did Castiel feel? He could only imagine the extent of his lover's feelings and it made him swallow.
A.N.: I'm not sure if you guys have been paying attention to the little flag counter on the right hand side bar, but it's at nearly 100,000 unique hits since I started this journal less then six months ago. And it has 86 countries listed. Thanks guys, you rock!
Chapter 65