(no subject)
Title: Legends
Author: starrycastiel
Rating: PG
Genre and/or Pairing: Humor
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Word Count: 600
Summary: Castiel, the Winchesters, and a happy moment.
Sam watches the way Castiel handles a shotgun, the fumbling of his fingers when Dean places the gun in Cas’ hands. Dean looks unfazed, his gestures fast and sure as he teaches Cas. Sam turns away and faces the Ohioan forestland trying not to think of the miraculous beat of Castiel’s wings, his weak but ever-strengthening Grace after his fight with the archangels. Sam looks to the tree tops and beyond to the sky where the songbirds dart between the leaves, where flocks of them sway in a harmonized motion of grace and economy. Above them, a hawk circles high and lazy, and Sam feels a moment of joy- that this life still exists, that the Apocalypse might be upon them but this here is not yet lost.
Sam says out loud into the middle of the forest, ‘It’s a pandion haliaetus- osprey. Not one of the endangered ones yet.'
Sam hears Dean snort and the muttered collegeboy, but Dean’s wrong, Sam learned most of this stuff from their father. He'd had a phase where he fell in love with the idea of flight, that stuff of legends. Sam turns back to Dean and Cas and sees that Cas is watching him, head tilted a little. Dean, however, is snapping his fingers in front of Castiel because Cas doesn’t seem to be paying attention to Dean’s shooting lesson.
‘You are interested in the legends about flight, Sam?’ Castiel says as he drops the shotgun with perfect disregard on the ground. Dean’s outraged shout of Fully-loaded, you birdbrain! goes unnoticed by Cas or Sam.
Sam's a little uncomfortable with the idea that Cas might have read his mind but then he shrugs a little, rubs the back of his head and dredges up childish memories of reading mythology for the fun of it and not the need to do it for the hunt. Sam knows that he has these memories because they were the ones that were kept protected- kept protected by Dean, Sam thinks and feels a rush of love for his brother. Sam glances over at Dean but the dude’s sulking over his guns so Sam turns back to Cas. He pulls up the stories of the firebird, and the phoenix, the roc, and the griffin, Garuda- describes them to Castiel as best he can, though, Sam thinks an ancient being like Cas should know all of this.
Castiel stares at Sam when Sam’s finished stumbling his way through the basic mythology of flight. Strangely, Sam thinks he sees the angel pouting a little, but that’s not possible, right? Sam blinks, though, and Castiel is tilting his head now and the intense stare boring into Sam is filled with a tiny hint of amusement, some exasperation as well.
Sam sees Dean smirking behind Castiel, his brother polishing the guns like the cocky symbols they obviously are for Dean.
‘What?’ Sam demands when Dean coughs.
‘Nuthin’’ Dean says nonchalantly.
Meanwhile Castiel is still staring. Sam rubs his nose.
‘You left out friggin’ angels, man- and after the way you usually gush on about them!’ Dean whoops finally and Sam’s distracted by the sight of Cas unfurling his black wings just a little. ‘Although, Cas ain’t a legend in writing yet, but he’s getting there,’ Dean continues.
‘I do admire Chuck’s work,’ Cas admits and gives Sam a small smile.
Comments are loved!
Author: starrycastiel
Rating: PG
Genre and/or Pairing: Humor
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Word Count: 600
Summary: Castiel, the Winchesters, and a happy moment.
Sam watches the way Castiel handles a shotgun, the fumbling of his fingers when Dean places the gun in Cas’ hands. Dean looks unfazed, his gestures fast and sure as he teaches Cas. Sam turns away and faces the Ohioan forestland trying not to think of the miraculous beat of Castiel’s wings, his weak but ever-strengthening Grace after his fight with the archangels. Sam looks to the tree tops and beyond to the sky where the songbirds dart between the leaves, where flocks of them sway in a harmonized motion of grace and economy. Above them, a hawk circles high and lazy, and Sam feels a moment of joy- that this life still exists, that the Apocalypse might be upon them but this here is not yet lost.
Sam says out loud into the middle of the forest, ‘It’s a pandion haliaetus- osprey. Not one of the endangered ones yet.'
Sam hears Dean snort and the muttered collegeboy, but Dean’s wrong, Sam learned most of this stuff from their father. He'd had a phase where he fell in love with the idea of flight, that stuff of legends. Sam turns back to Dean and Cas and sees that Cas is watching him, head tilted a little. Dean, however, is snapping his fingers in front of Castiel because Cas doesn’t seem to be paying attention to Dean’s shooting lesson.
‘You are interested in the legends about flight, Sam?’ Castiel says as he drops the shotgun with perfect disregard on the ground. Dean’s outraged shout of Fully-loaded, you birdbrain! goes unnoticed by Cas or Sam.
Sam's a little uncomfortable with the idea that Cas might have read his mind but then he shrugs a little, rubs the back of his head and dredges up childish memories of reading mythology for the fun of it and not the need to do it for the hunt. Sam knows that he has these memories because they were the ones that were kept protected- kept protected by Dean, Sam thinks and feels a rush of love for his brother. Sam glances over at Dean but the dude’s sulking over his guns so Sam turns back to Cas. He pulls up the stories of the firebird, and the phoenix, the roc, and the griffin, Garuda- describes them to Castiel as best he can, though, Sam thinks an ancient being like Cas should know all of this.
Castiel stares at Sam when Sam’s finished stumbling his way through the basic mythology of flight. Strangely, Sam thinks he sees the angel pouting a little, but that’s not possible, right? Sam blinks, though, and Castiel is tilting his head now and the intense stare boring into Sam is filled with a tiny hint of amusement, some exasperation as well.
Sam sees Dean smirking behind Castiel, his brother polishing the guns like the cocky symbols they obviously are for Dean.
‘What?’ Sam demands when Dean coughs.
‘Nuthin’’ Dean says nonchalantly.
Meanwhile Castiel is still staring. Sam rubs his nose.
‘You left out friggin’ angels, man- and after the way you usually gush on about them!’ Dean whoops finally and Sam’s distracted by the sight of Cas unfurling his black wings just a little. ‘Although, Cas ain’t a legend in writing yet, but he’s getting there,’ Dean continues.
‘I do admire Chuck’s work,’ Cas admits and gives Sam a small smile.
Comments are loved!