6.7: Symbolism - 1) angel
6.7: Symbolism - 1) angel: symbolic of goodness and purity; if the angel is a messenger from God, then the message is very important and must be given serious attention
[OOC: RP Storyline; needed to impart knowledge to Dean that won't be given as it was in the show, so this works well! Some of the dialogue is from the episode, some is rephrased.]
He lay on the floor in the wreckage, pain throbbing through his body with every breath. Everywhere he looked, there were signs of battle, but he couldn't remember what had happened. He struggled to his feet and fell back against the wall, wondering why he felt like he'd been pummeled.
Before he could do more than check to make sure he wasn't seriously wounded, he felt a rapid change in the air pressure, his ears starting to ring and then hurt like someone was stabbing an ice pick into them. He clapped his hands over his ears, but the sound and pressure intensified until he doubled over in pain. It drove him nearly to his knees, then suddenly stopped,leaving him panting and shaking. And then there was someone else there, standing in front of him.
He looked up, eyes going wide in shock as he saw his father standing before him -- young, like he'd been when he went to the past -- and there was something... different about him. It was like his shadow didn't quite match, and when Dean squinted, he realized he could see the shadow of enormous wings. "...Who the fuck are you and what did you do to my dad?"
"You know who I am, Dean," and he shivered because he did know.
"Well, I guess they oversold me, then, huh? Being your one and only vessel," he said, falling back on his typical defense mechanisms because he refused to show the Archangel how terrified he really was.
"You're my true vessel," Michael said calmly, "But not my only one."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It's a bloodline."
"A bloodline?" What the hell was he going on about?
"Stretching back to Cain and Abel. It's in your blood, your father's blood, your family's blood," Michael explained.
Dean refused to let him see how shaken he was, murmuring, "Awesome. Six degrees of Heaven bacon," but inside he was flailing. It couldn't be true, could it? And shit -- if it were true, then what did that make them? He'd read some of the books Sam and Bobby had dug out; books about the fallen Grigori and the Nephilim, and how some scholars theorized the 'daughters of man' were the daughters of Cain... He reined in the panic before it could show on his face, and glared at the Archangel. "What do you want with me?"
"I want you to understand what you and I have to do. I don't want to kill my brother any more than you want to kill Sam, but it's going to happen because it is right. And I have to."
"Why, because God says so?"
"From the beginning he knew this was how it was going to end."
"And you're just gonna do whatever God says?" Dean asked. He knew obedience -- God knew he'd done some crazy things just because John Winchester said so, but...
"Yes, because I am a good son."
"Yeah, well trust me pal, take it from someone who knows, that is a dead-end street," he said, remembering what John had told him about Sam. There were times when you just had to say no; some orders that were just wrong...
"And you think you know better than my Father?" Michael asked, and there was a surge of power that almost forced Dean back. "One unimportant little man? What makes you think you get to choose?"
Because that's all we have, he thought. That's what we got -- the ability to make our own choices. If we don't have that, then there's nothing... "Because I gotta believe that I can choose what I do with... my unimportant little life," he answered, desperately clinging to that belief.
"You're wrong," Michael answered. "You know how I know? Think of a million random acts of chance, that let John and Mary be born. To meet. To fall in love, to have the two of you. Think of the million random choices that you make, and yet each and every one of them brings you closer to your destiny. Do you know why that is? Because it’s not random. It’s not chance. It’s a plan that is playing itself out perfectly. Free will is an illusion, Dean. That’s why you’re going to say yes."
No. No, it wasn't. It couldn't be... There had to be free will. Just because God maybe knew what they were going to do didn't mean he was making them do it, right? Right? There had to be a way to make their own choices and their own mistakes -- they had to be able to say no. It made his head throb just trying to think his way through it, but he swallowed back his panic and realized he was staring at the angel.
"You can't fight City Hall," Michael said, reaching out to straighten Dean's jacket. "I'll see you soon, Dean." Then he reached out and touched Dean on the forehead...
Dean shot awake, heart pounding like he'd run a marathon; panic sending adrenaline thundering through him. That dream... He shivered, pulling the blankets closer, and desperately wished that Castiel was there with him. As much as he wanted to believe it was only a dream, he'd been visited by angels in his sleep before, and he knew -- he knew it was the real deal.
"We are so totally screwed..."
-----
Muse: Dean Winchester
Fandom: Supernatural
Wordcount: 633 per Word Perfect (892 with episode dialogue)
Set before this
[OOC: RP Storyline; needed to impart knowledge to Dean that won't be given as it was in the show, so this works well! Some of the dialogue is from the episode, some is rephrased.]
He lay on the floor in the wreckage, pain throbbing through his body with every breath. Everywhere he looked, there were signs of battle, but he couldn't remember what had happened. He struggled to his feet and fell back against the wall, wondering why he felt like he'd been pummeled.
Before he could do more than check to make sure he wasn't seriously wounded, he felt a rapid change in the air pressure, his ears starting to ring and then hurt like someone was stabbing an ice pick into them. He clapped his hands over his ears, but the sound and pressure intensified until he doubled over in pain. It drove him nearly to his knees, then suddenly stopped,leaving him panting and shaking. And then there was someone else there, standing in front of him.
He looked up, eyes going wide in shock as he saw his father standing before him -- young, like he'd been when he went to the past -- and there was something... different about him. It was like his shadow didn't quite match, and when Dean squinted, he realized he could see the shadow of enormous wings. "...Who the fuck are you and what did you do to my dad?"
"You know who I am, Dean," and he shivered because he did know.
"Well, I guess they oversold me, then, huh? Being your one and only vessel," he said, falling back on his typical defense mechanisms because he refused to show the Archangel how terrified he really was.
"You're my true vessel," Michael said calmly, "But not my only one."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It's a bloodline."
"A bloodline?" What the hell was he going on about?
"Stretching back to Cain and Abel. It's in your blood, your father's blood, your family's blood," Michael explained.
Dean refused to let him see how shaken he was, murmuring, "Awesome. Six degrees of Heaven bacon," but inside he was flailing. It couldn't be true, could it? And shit -- if it were true, then what did that make them? He'd read some of the books Sam and Bobby had dug out; books about the fallen Grigori and the Nephilim, and how some scholars theorized the 'daughters of man' were the daughters of Cain... He reined in the panic before it could show on his face, and glared at the Archangel. "What do you want with me?"
"I want you to understand what you and I have to do. I don't want to kill my brother any more than you want to kill Sam, but it's going to happen because it is right. And I have to."
"Why, because God says so?"
"From the beginning he knew this was how it was going to end."
"And you're just gonna do whatever God says?" Dean asked. He knew obedience -- God knew he'd done some crazy things just because John Winchester said so, but...
"Yes, because I am a good son."
"Yeah, well trust me pal, take it from someone who knows, that is a dead-end street," he said, remembering what John had told him about Sam. There were times when you just had to say no; some orders that were just wrong...
"And you think you know better than my Father?" Michael asked, and there was a surge of power that almost forced Dean back. "One unimportant little man? What makes you think you get to choose?"
Because that's all we have, he thought. That's what we got -- the ability to make our own choices. If we don't have that, then there's nothing... "Because I gotta believe that I can choose what I do with... my unimportant little life," he answered, desperately clinging to that belief.
"You're wrong," Michael answered. "You know how I know? Think of a million random acts of chance, that let John and Mary be born. To meet. To fall in love, to have the two of you. Think of the million random choices that you make, and yet each and every one of them brings you closer to your destiny. Do you know why that is? Because it’s not random. It’s not chance. It’s a plan that is playing itself out perfectly. Free will is an illusion, Dean. That’s why you’re going to say yes."
No. No, it wasn't. It couldn't be... There had to be free will. Just because God maybe knew what they were going to do didn't mean he was making them do it, right? Right? There had to be a way to make their own choices and their own mistakes -- they had to be able to say no. It made his head throb just trying to think his way through it, but he swallowed back his panic and realized he was staring at the angel.
"You can't fight City Hall," Michael said, reaching out to straighten Dean's jacket. "I'll see you soon, Dean." Then he reached out and touched Dean on the forehead...
Dean shot awake, heart pounding like he'd run a marathon; panic sending adrenaline thundering through him. That dream... He shivered, pulling the blankets closer, and desperately wished that Castiel was there with him. As much as he wanted to believe it was only a dream, he'd been visited by angels in his sleep before, and he knew -- he knew it was the real deal.
"We are so totally screwed..."
-----
Muse: Dean Winchester
Fandom: Supernatural
Wordcount: 633 per Word Perfect (892 with episode dialogue)
Set before this