beyond the rift } { while our hearts in love we raise
[MERRY CHRISTMAS dolcissimo. Set in beyondtherift, about a year ago. neverdamseling is used with permission.]
Castiel’s first Christmas in Chicago is rather calming.
There are elements that are missing-Christmas has always been a celebration among the garrison-but it reminds him a lot of home. It isn’t quite Christmas yet-there is still a few days before-but Chicago is already lit up with the color of the season. Thousands of lights color the normally drab and gray buildings, making them stand out in the darkness. The festiveness of the city almost distracts away from what it is, a tumultuous place full of fear and pain, and at the same time, capable of immense joy.
It’s a few days before Christmas, and Castiel is doing what he usually does-sitting quietly on a bench in Grant Park. It is hard to find reasons to break routine in a world where he has yet to find a purpose. There has been some satisfaction in stopping some of the monsters that have fallen through the Rift on various occasions, but there seem to be plenty of people to do that. His knowledge of the world is useless, rebuilding his friendships is tedious and takes more time than he’s willing to give and there is no garrison to return to. He has resigned himself to believing that this is a world where he is almost entirely useless. He is going to have to choose to live as humans do-to become interested in the trivial and mundane. To limit his view of the larger world view.
It is not as easy as it sounds.
He is trying to acclimate himself to that when he hears the sound of footsteps approaching. His head picks up for a moment, and he turns to see a small blond woman moving closer. Most people wouldn’t be able to recognize her from this distance, but Castiel has more than just his eyes working in his favor.
“Hello, Buffy.”
She looks up at the sound of her name, and smiles when she sees who it is, moving quickly to approach the bench. “Hey, Cas,” she says as she sits. “Merry Christmas.”
“To you as well,” he replies. “I hope the Rift manages to keep it’s usual brand of activities to a minimum.”
“You and me both,” she sighs. “Do you have plans?” There is a beat as he tries to determine what she means by ‘plans’ and she decides to clarify. “For Christmas. Is there anything angel-y on the horizon?” Another beat. “You guys do celebrate Christmas, don’t you? You’re pretty famous for it.”
“We do. But not in the way humans do-there isn’t as much … fanfare.”
“Quiet family gatherings are highly underrated. Do you guys have a big dinner? Exchange presents?” There’s a long quiet pause. “Please tell me there’s at least presents.”
“The angels of the garrison are not concerned with material gifts,” he explains, resettling slightly on the bench. “I am not entirely sure how that tradition came about.”
“Huh,” Buffy replies slowly, hands sliding deeper into her pockets to protect them from the cold. “So if you don’t exchanges presents or anything, what do you do?”
He pauses for a moment. “It is hard to explain.”
Buffy nods for a moment, before turning to look at him more. “Tell you what. I show you what we do for Christmas, you show me what you do?”
His head tips to the side. He had to admit, his curiosity is getting the better of him and if he has learned nothing else, participation makes some things easier to understand. He gives her a small smile before nodding. “Yes. I think I would like that.”
“Good,” she grins. “My friends and I usually have Christmas dinner. When do you do your thing?”
“Midnight,” Castiel replies simply. “On the roof of the Kashtta would be best.”
“I’ll be there,” she nods, before pushing up to her feet. “I have to finish patrolling. But I’ll see you at midnight.”
Castiel nods as he watches her go. “See you there.”
***
It’s deathly quiet at that hour in Chicago. It’s not that late-in fact, Castiel is early for his appointment to meet Buffy-but there is still an odd kind of silence. It’s a silence that doesn’t fit in the nature of Chicago, or the holiday. He remembers the night of the actual birth of Christ, all those centuries ago, and it was shockingly silent, just like this one is. There was no fanfare, no profound celebration. Just silence.
He isn’t left waiting long, however. Not long before midnight, the door to the roof opens. He turns to meet Buffy’s gaze, giving her a small smile. “Hello, Buffy.”
“Hi, Cas,” she grins back. “Looks like I made it just in time.”
He nods as he turns back to face the buildings around them again. “It is a very clear night.”
She takes a few strides to fall in beside him, arms crossed in front of her chest as she looks out over Chicago. “It’s quiet. It’s nice, given Chicago.” They both fall into silence for a moment, as Castiel stands there, just listening to everything around them. After a moment, her head turns and she looks at him again. “So what are we doing up here?”
“Listening,” he replies succinctly.
“Listening? Listening to what?”
He smirks a bit, before placing a hand on her shoulder. “Close your eyes and listen.”
She does so, and Castiel does the same, channeling his power through that hand and into her. As midnight strikes, the sound of organs and people singing rises up from the streets of Chicago. He could hear it without assistance, but through that contact with Buffy she could hear it as well, clear as bells. He leaves his hand there long enough to go through the opening procession-too much power channeled through a human host could do damage, even for someone as durable as Buffy-and then he pulls his hand away, watching as she processes it, before opening his eyes to look at him again.
“So that’s how you spend Christmas, huh?”
He nods. “It is not … exciting.”
“No,” she shakes her head, giving him a small smile. “But it is beautiful.”
“Yes,” Castiel nods. “Yes, it is.”
1039 words
Castiel’s first Christmas in Chicago is rather calming.
There are elements that are missing-Christmas has always been a celebration among the garrison-but it reminds him a lot of home. It isn’t quite Christmas yet-there is still a few days before-but Chicago is already lit up with the color of the season. Thousands of lights color the normally drab and gray buildings, making them stand out in the darkness. The festiveness of the city almost distracts away from what it is, a tumultuous place full of fear and pain, and at the same time, capable of immense joy.
It’s a few days before Christmas, and Castiel is doing what he usually does-sitting quietly on a bench in Grant Park. It is hard to find reasons to break routine in a world where he has yet to find a purpose. There has been some satisfaction in stopping some of the monsters that have fallen through the Rift on various occasions, but there seem to be plenty of people to do that. His knowledge of the world is useless, rebuilding his friendships is tedious and takes more time than he’s willing to give and there is no garrison to return to. He has resigned himself to believing that this is a world where he is almost entirely useless. He is going to have to choose to live as humans do-to become interested in the trivial and mundane. To limit his view of the larger world view.
It is not as easy as it sounds.
He is trying to acclimate himself to that when he hears the sound of footsteps approaching. His head picks up for a moment, and he turns to see a small blond woman moving closer. Most people wouldn’t be able to recognize her from this distance, but Castiel has more than just his eyes working in his favor.
“Hello, Buffy.”
She looks up at the sound of her name, and smiles when she sees who it is, moving quickly to approach the bench. “Hey, Cas,” she says as she sits. “Merry Christmas.”
“To you as well,” he replies. “I hope the Rift manages to keep it’s usual brand of activities to a minimum.”
“You and me both,” she sighs. “Do you have plans?” There is a beat as he tries to determine what she means by ‘plans’ and she decides to clarify. “For Christmas. Is there anything angel-y on the horizon?” Another beat. “You guys do celebrate Christmas, don’t you? You’re pretty famous for it.”
“We do. But not in the way humans do-there isn’t as much … fanfare.”
“Quiet family gatherings are highly underrated. Do you guys have a big dinner? Exchange presents?” There’s a long quiet pause. “Please tell me there’s at least presents.”
“The angels of the garrison are not concerned with material gifts,” he explains, resettling slightly on the bench. “I am not entirely sure how that tradition came about.”
“Huh,” Buffy replies slowly, hands sliding deeper into her pockets to protect them from the cold. “So if you don’t exchanges presents or anything, what do you do?”
He pauses for a moment. “It is hard to explain.”
Buffy nods for a moment, before turning to look at him more. “Tell you what. I show you what we do for Christmas, you show me what you do?”
His head tips to the side. He had to admit, his curiosity is getting the better of him and if he has learned nothing else, participation makes some things easier to understand. He gives her a small smile before nodding. “Yes. I think I would like that.”
“Good,” she grins. “My friends and I usually have Christmas dinner. When do you do your thing?”
“Midnight,” Castiel replies simply. “On the roof of the Kashtta would be best.”
“I’ll be there,” she nods, before pushing up to her feet. “I have to finish patrolling. But I’ll see you at midnight.”
Castiel nods as he watches her go. “See you there.”
***
It’s deathly quiet at that hour in Chicago. It’s not that late-in fact, Castiel is early for his appointment to meet Buffy-but there is still an odd kind of silence. It’s a silence that doesn’t fit in the nature of Chicago, or the holiday. He remembers the night of the actual birth of Christ, all those centuries ago, and it was shockingly silent, just like this one is. There was no fanfare, no profound celebration. Just silence.
He isn’t left waiting long, however. Not long before midnight, the door to the roof opens. He turns to meet Buffy’s gaze, giving her a small smile. “Hello, Buffy.”
“Hi, Cas,” she grins back. “Looks like I made it just in time.”
He nods as he turns back to face the buildings around them again. “It is a very clear night.”
She takes a few strides to fall in beside him, arms crossed in front of her chest as she looks out over Chicago. “It’s quiet. It’s nice, given Chicago.” They both fall into silence for a moment, as Castiel stands there, just listening to everything around them. After a moment, her head turns and she looks at him again. “So what are we doing up here?”
“Listening,” he replies succinctly.
“Listening? Listening to what?”
He smirks a bit, before placing a hand on her shoulder. “Close your eyes and listen.”
She does so, and Castiel does the same, channeling his power through that hand and into her. As midnight strikes, the sound of organs and people singing rises up from the streets of Chicago. He could hear it without assistance, but through that contact with Buffy she could hear it as well, clear as bells. He leaves his hand there long enough to go through the opening procession-too much power channeled through a human host could do damage, even for someone as durable as Buffy-and then he pulls his hand away, watching as she processes it, before opening his eyes to look at him again.
“So that’s how you spend Christmas, huh?”
He nods. “It is not … exciting.”
“No,” she shakes her head, giving him a small smile. “But it is beautiful.”
“Yes,” Castiel nods. “Yes, it is.”
1039 words