The Lost Tales: Prolog - A SPN/B5 Crossover
Title: The Lost Tales: Prolog
Author: aescu
Characters: Dean, Castiel, Jimmy, Col. Lochley
Classification: SPN/Babylon5 Crossover
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: ~1500
Warnings: spoilers for Season 5 (SPN), Season 2 (B5)
Disclaimer: I own nothing except a sick fantasy
Teaser: Even if Dean tended to forget that Castiel, the nerdy little guy with wings, in fact was a kick-ass warrior, the dance-like combat, the way he made fighting against numerous enemies simultaneously look simple and... and nearly beautiful, like some kind of morbid ballet, it all reminded Dean that his friend was a supernatural killer, an honest to god Angel.
AN: This is the first part of a larger installment for aruna who won me at pledge_a_thon .
Again thanks to my wonderful beta citizencandy !
~ The Lost Tales ~
Prolog
I believe that when we leave a place, part of it goes with us, and part of us remains. Go anywhere in the station when it is quiet and just listen. After a while, you will hear the echoes of all our conversations, every thought and word we've exchanged. Long after we have gone, our voices will linger in these walls.
-- Citizen G'Kar, The Lost Tales
~*~
"Personal log, Colonel Elizabeth Lochley, commanding officer, Babylon 5.
In the nine years since I took over day-to-day operations on B5, I've requisitioned some pretty odd things. Strange food, alien booze, exotic dancers for a Centauri business meeting. But this… This is a new one even for me."
~*~
Asmodeus lowered his head; he refused to accept his defeat. Not after waiting for so long. Not after coming that far. He had existed for eons. He surely would be able to come up with a contingency plan.
~*~
There was a flash of light and the next thing Dean knew was that the muddy soil suddenly became solid, the musky smell changed into something way more artificial, and stars and moon had simply vanished. His head swam and his stomach hadn't finished contemplating whether to get rid of the burger and fries Dean had had for dinner or not. With a groan, he let his head rest on the floor and waited for the vertigo and nausea to pass.
~*~
"Your shuttle will leave in thirty minutes, Father Cassidy," Colonel Elizabeth Lochley
told the gray haired cleric as they were heading towards the cells in Sector Blue. "Two of our fighters could escort you back to earth, if you..."
"Thank you, Colonel," the older man interrupted her with a determined voice that was betrayed by the softness in his eyes. "I appreciate your concern, but we should keep this as low profile as possible. An escort back would just draw attention to us. And we don't even know if a well aimed shot would accomplish anything besides killing the... The vessel."
"Very well," the Colonel nodded, "But if there is anything unusual, contact us immediately. Even if it's just something minor, don't hesitate to inform us. A White Star is out there, ready to be at your position in the blink of an eye."
They stopped in front of the door leading inside the cell 32, former security officer Simon Burke was currently occupying. Two security men were already waiting - a human and a narn. Lochley greeted them with a nod before her communicator made a twittering noise and a male voice informed her that President Sheridan and Delenn's ship was about to leave hyperspace. She shook Father Cassidy's hand and reminded him one last time that he just had to send a message for support to arrive immediately before she turned around and headed back to C & C, convinced of leaving the probably strangest incident of her entire carrier finally behind.
~*~
Dean didn't know how long he'd been passed out as finally he regained consciousness for the second time. There were noises all around him: grunts, things clattering somewhere in the dim lit chaos surrounding him.. A gurgling noise coming from his right. Something hissing rhythmically about two yards above his prone body. A low electric humming filling the air like he had ended up inside some kind of machine. Dean could make out pipes in various lengths and diameters - boxes made of metal and plastic, rubbish covering most of the unoccupied floor. A familiar shape caught his eye - the demon killing knife. It was nearly buried by a collapsed pile of what looked like beer coasters made of some kind of semi-transparent plastic.
Slowly he sat up, trying to take in as much of his surroundings as he could. They were obviously in some kind of building and at least this room had no windows. He finally spotted an open door and cautiously ran towards it, using as much cover as he could. Some of the noises were people fighting, he was sure. And he would find Castiel smack in the middle of it - probably facing down a dozen or so demons on his own. It was just their kind of luck...
As he glanced around the corner, Dean noticed the hallway outside his room leading to another storage area lit by... heck, he had no idea what kind of light source could cast that kind of light. It was dim but still bright enough to nearly blind him, although he didn't see any after images. It was not only moving rapidly but waxing and waning in brightness, too.
Dean was still a couple of feet away from the door to the other room, when a man suddenly went flying out of the opening, crashing heavily into the wall - thankfully it was not Castiel - and collapsing in a motionless heap on the floor. The hunter clutched his knife tighter and entered the room, ready to fight.
Three corpses lay strewn across the floor - not all in one piece and at least the light haired guy in front of Dean had a broken spine, his head resting at an unnatural angle. Castiel was still facing two foes clad in some kind of blue-brown uniform like clothes. The strange light the hunter had noticed earlier was coming from his friend, shining out of each of Jimmy's body openings.
A quick strike, followed by a feint, a gracious, pirouette like movement and a fluent strike made the shorter of the two remaining adversaries fall to his knees, his carotid severed. Even if Dean tended to forget that Castiel, the nerdy little guy with wings, in fact was a kick-ass warrior, the dance-like combat, the way he made fighting against numerous enemies simultaneously look simple and... and nearly beautiful, like some kind of morbid ballet, it all reminded Dean that his friend was a supernatural killer, an honest to god Angel.
As soon as the last foe was incapacitated and lay slain on the floor, Castiel fell to his knees, retching heavily, vomiting out white light. Although it looked a bit like the effect of Sam's unholy demon-blood exorcisms, this was no smoke, neither black nor white, this was in fact the light of an Angel bring puked out like bad food. Hastily, Dean averted his eyes. He did not want to go blind; much less here on unfamiliar, perhaps hostile, territory.
After a while the nausea inducing sounds of Castiel - Jimmy? - puking his guts out ceased. Although it was still brighter inside the storage room than it should be, Dean assumed it was safe to take a glimpse; the light was no where as intense as the last time he had witnessed an Angel without his vessel. Cautiously he turned around again.
"Dean...," although he sounded weak and hoarse Dean knew instantly that this was no longer Cas; Jimmy was back. Right beside the man who was still on his hands and knees, Dean spotted Castiel. He had never thought he would ever see the Angel in his true form, but this... This must be how Castiel really looked like. Or perhaps not...? The hunter noticed the strikingly alikeness of both Castiel's and Jimmy's features. Besides looking like a Jimmy-clone the rest of Cas resembled every bit how Dean had always pictured Angels would look. He was glowing, surrounded by an aura of light, huge semi transparent wings spreading from his back. Gone was the trench coat and black suit; instead the Angel was dressed in some kind of wide and flowing robes, that gaped open right down to his very navel (Angel, navel, seriously?!) displaying not only a lot of skin but hair, too. Dean scrambled towards his friend and quickly made sure the clothes covered Castiel's torso as best as possible.
"Cas? What happened? You hurt?" Dean started checking him for injuries while shooting Jimmy a questioning look. Castiel's eyes were closed, his breaths irregular and shallow. He either was not willing or not able to answer right now. Perhaps his vessel knew more?
But the dark haired man just shook his head, still looking pale and nauseated. "Beats me..."
A shuffling sound made both Jimmy and Dean turn towards the door again. While the hunter's fingers gripped the demon killing knife tighter, ready to defend his friend (friends?), the smaller man gave his best to merge with the shadows and hide behind a stack of metal carts.
The creature standing inside the doorway clutching what seemed like a futuristic rifle with shaking hands, looked like nothing Dean had ever seen before. Dark, blue-gray skin, a flat nose, no hair, no ears, and button like, piercing eyes, that were widened in shock. However he (it?) didn't speak Klingon or Martian but English - although with a nasty Russian accent - "Fuck! We... we have a Vorlon in Gray 5."
AN2:
For all of you wondering how Castiel looks like, I've added a picture of another Vorlon-Angel; just klick on the thumbnail :)
If you want to refresh your B5 memory, you can rewatch the relevant part of season finale of S2 on youtube
And I'd like to acknowledge The Lurker's Guide to Babylon5, which is like the supernaturalwiki: An nearly endless ressource for information.
And last but not least another disclaimer: This is not everything there is. There is much more to the connection Vorlons/Angels than I have mentioned in this very short prolog - I know the background of Vorlons, have faith ;
Author: aescu
Characters: Dean, Castiel, Jimmy, Col. Lochley
Classification: SPN/Babylon5 Crossover
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: ~1500
Warnings: spoilers for Season 5 (SPN), Season 2 (B5)
Disclaimer: I own nothing except a sick fantasy
Teaser: Even if Dean tended to forget that Castiel, the nerdy little guy with wings, in fact was a kick-ass warrior, the dance-like combat, the way he made fighting against numerous enemies simultaneously look simple and... and nearly beautiful, like some kind of morbid ballet, it all reminded Dean that his friend was a supernatural killer, an honest to god Angel.
AN: This is the first part of a larger installment for aruna who won me at pledge_a_thon .
Again thanks to my wonderful beta citizencandy !
~ The Lost Tales ~
Prolog
I believe that when we leave a place, part of it goes with us, and part of us remains. Go anywhere in the station when it is quiet and just listen. After a while, you will hear the echoes of all our conversations, every thought and word we've exchanged. Long after we have gone, our voices will linger in these walls.
-- Citizen G'Kar, The Lost Tales
~*~
"Personal log, Colonel Elizabeth Lochley, commanding officer, Babylon 5.
In the nine years since I took over day-to-day operations on B5, I've requisitioned some pretty odd things. Strange food, alien booze, exotic dancers for a Centauri business meeting. But this… This is a new one even for me."
~*~
Asmodeus lowered his head; he refused to accept his defeat. Not after waiting for so long. Not after coming that far. He had existed for eons. He surely would be able to come up with a contingency plan.
~*~
There was a flash of light and the next thing Dean knew was that the muddy soil suddenly became solid, the musky smell changed into something way more artificial, and stars and moon had simply vanished. His head swam and his stomach hadn't finished contemplating whether to get rid of the burger and fries Dean had had for dinner or not. With a groan, he let his head rest on the floor and waited for the vertigo and nausea to pass.
~*~
"Your shuttle will leave in thirty minutes, Father Cassidy," Colonel Elizabeth Lochley
told the gray haired cleric as they were heading towards the cells in Sector Blue. "Two of our fighters could escort you back to earth, if you..."
"Thank you, Colonel," the older man interrupted her with a determined voice that was betrayed by the softness in his eyes. "I appreciate your concern, but we should keep this as low profile as possible. An escort back would just draw attention to us. And we don't even know if a well aimed shot would accomplish anything besides killing the... The vessel."
"Very well," the Colonel nodded, "But if there is anything unusual, contact us immediately. Even if it's just something minor, don't hesitate to inform us. A White Star is out there, ready to be at your position in the blink of an eye."
They stopped in front of the door leading inside the cell 32, former security officer Simon Burke was currently occupying. Two security men were already waiting - a human and a narn. Lochley greeted them with a nod before her communicator made a twittering noise and a male voice informed her that President Sheridan and Delenn's ship was about to leave hyperspace. She shook Father Cassidy's hand and reminded him one last time that he just had to send a message for support to arrive immediately before she turned around and headed back to C & C, convinced of leaving the probably strangest incident of her entire carrier finally behind.
~*~
Dean didn't know how long he'd been passed out as finally he regained consciousness for the second time. There were noises all around him: grunts, things clattering somewhere in the dim lit chaos surrounding him.. A gurgling noise coming from his right. Something hissing rhythmically about two yards above his prone body. A low electric humming filling the air like he had ended up inside some kind of machine. Dean could make out pipes in various lengths and diameters - boxes made of metal and plastic, rubbish covering most of the unoccupied floor. A familiar shape caught his eye - the demon killing knife. It was nearly buried by a collapsed pile of what looked like beer coasters made of some kind of semi-transparent plastic.
Slowly he sat up, trying to take in as much of his surroundings as he could. They were obviously in some kind of building and at least this room had no windows. He finally spotted an open door and cautiously ran towards it, using as much cover as he could. Some of the noises were people fighting, he was sure. And he would find Castiel smack in the middle of it - probably facing down a dozen or so demons on his own. It was just their kind of luck...
As he glanced around the corner, Dean noticed the hallway outside his room leading to another storage area lit by... heck, he had no idea what kind of light source could cast that kind of light. It was dim but still bright enough to nearly blind him, although he didn't see any after images. It was not only moving rapidly but waxing and waning in brightness, too.
Dean was still a couple of feet away from the door to the other room, when a man suddenly went flying out of the opening, crashing heavily into the wall - thankfully it was not Castiel - and collapsing in a motionless heap on the floor. The hunter clutched his knife tighter and entered the room, ready to fight.
Three corpses lay strewn across the floor - not all in one piece and at least the light haired guy in front of Dean had a broken spine, his head resting at an unnatural angle. Castiel was still facing two foes clad in some kind of blue-brown uniform like clothes. The strange light the hunter had noticed earlier was coming from his friend, shining out of each of Jimmy's body openings.
A quick strike, followed by a feint, a gracious, pirouette like movement and a fluent strike made the shorter of the two remaining adversaries fall to his knees, his carotid severed. Even if Dean tended to forget that Castiel, the nerdy little guy with wings, in fact was a kick-ass warrior, the dance-like combat, the way he made fighting against numerous enemies simultaneously look simple and... and nearly beautiful, like some kind of morbid ballet, it all reminded Dean that his friend was a supernatural killer, an honest to god Angel.
As soon as the last foe was incapacitated and lay slain on the floor, Castiel fell to his knees, retching heavily, vomiting out white light. Although it looked a bit like the effect of Sam's unholy demon-blood exorcisms, this was no smoke, neither black nor white, this was in fact the light of an Angel bring puked out like bad food. Hastily, Dean averted his eyes. He did not want to go blind; much less here on unfamiliar, perhaps hostile, territory.
After a while the nausea inducing sounds of Castiel - Jimmy? - puking his guts out ceased. Although it was still brighter inside the storage room than it should be, Dean assumed it was safe to take a glimpse; the light was no where as intense as the last time he had witnessed an Angel without his vessel. Cautiously he turned around again.
"Dean...," although he sounded weak and hoarse Dean knew instantly that this was no longer Cas; Jimmy was back. Right beside the man who was still on his hands and knees, Dean spotted Castiel. He had never thought he would ever see the Angel in his true form, but this... This must be how Castiel really looked like. Or perhaps not...? The hunter noticed the strikingly alikeness of both Castiel's and Jimmy's features. Besides looking like a Jimmy-clone the rest of Cas resembled every bit how Dean had always pictured Angels would look. He was glowing, surrounded by an aura of light, huge semi transparent wings spreading from his back. Gone was the trench coat and black suit; instead the Angel was dressed in some kind of wide and flowing robes, that gaped open right down to his very navel (Angel, navel, seriously?!) displaying not only a lot of skin but hair, too. Dean scrambled towards his friend and quickly made sure the clothes covered Castiel's torso as best as possible.
"Cas? What happened? You hurt?" Dean started checking him for injuries while shooting Jimmy a questioning look. Castiel's eyes were closed, his breaths irregular and shallow. He either was not willing or not able to answer right now. Perhaps his vessel knew more?
But the dark haired man just shook his head, still looking pale and nauseated. "Beats me..."
A shuffling sound made both Jimmy and Dean turn towards the door again. While the hunter's fingers gripped the demon killing knife tighter, ready to defend his friend (friends?), the smaller man gave his best to merge with the shadows and hide behind a stack of metal carts.
The creature standing inside the doorway clutching what seemed like a futuristic rifle with shaking hands, looked like nothing Dean had ever seen before. Dark, blue-gray skin, a flat nose, no hair, no ears, and button like, piercing eyes, that were widened in shock. However he (it?) didn't speak Klingon or Martian but English - although with a nasty Russian accent - "Fuck! We... we have a Vorlon in Gray 5."
AN2:
For all of you wondering how Castiel looks like, I've added a picture of another Vorlon-Angel; just klick on the thumbnail :)
If you want to refresh your B5 memory, you can rewatch the relevant part of season finale of S2 on youtube
And I'd like to acknowledge The Lurker's Guide to Babylon5, which is like the supernaturalwiki: An nearly endless ressource for information.
And last but not least another disclaimer: This is not everything there is. There is much more to the connection Vorlons/Angels than I have mentioned in this very short prolog - I know the background of Vorlons, have faith ;