Never a Last Stand - Part Two: Fairy Magic will Do that
Episode Number: 09x00 of Season 9 Fan Fiction (S9FF) [Interim Episode]
Title: Never a Last Stand
Subtitle: Fairy Magic Will Do That
Author dracox-serdriel
Acknowledgements: Thanks to ganeshalemming for help in slaying the typo demon.
Word Count: 1,092
Episode Spoilers: Written after 8x19 "Taxi Driver"
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete. Feedback appreciated.
Castiel woke in a bed. His head hurt. His feet hurt. Everything between the two hurt.
Disorientation licked him. With no need to sleep, angels find unconsciousness a bewildering rarity. He shook himself and found his grace felt out of place. He remembered something about a fairy -
That didn't make a lot of sense to him, but then again, he woke up in a dark room wearing only underwear and an undershirt. So maybe life wasn't supposed to add up right now.
The confusion propelled him to an upright position, which he immediately regretted. Apparently moving too quickly in his current state could cause vertigo. He made a mental note of it for later.
"What... happened?" he said out loud.
He started to remember the fight, but all of that whirled by quickly. Then he remembered Naomi and Dean -
His heart sped up as he thought of how Dean defended him.
But after that, all he remembered was the POP! of the fairy magic and darkness. And someone putting cold, wet fabric on his head. This seemed to be a strange custom, but he definitely remembered it happening.
He heard breathing; someone must be nearby. "Dean?" Cas asked. "Hello?"
Cas felt around for a light switch, which felt a foolish thing for an angel to do. As he found the switch, he remembered Dean's voice over his head. "Com'on Cas, damnit," he said, "you gotta keep fighting, okay? Gilda said the fever would break, so just... please, just ride it out." He had said this while applying wet fabric to his forehead. The ritual was unknown to Cas; perhaps it was a human form of comfort.
He moved the switch and the lights snapped on, far too bright. Squinting, he looked around the room. It wasn't a motel room; Cas surmised it must be the "bat cave" Dean mentioned. The room didn't look like it was in a cave at all, but then again, Dean Winchester had a funny way of expressing things.
And there he was, sprawled out over a very short couch beyond the foot of the bed.
It looked as if Dean had fallen asleep by accident. Cas hardly imagined he would have willfully drooled down his front.
Finding his sea legs, Castiel made his way over to Dean to wake him up.
He didn't make it - Dean's eyes snapped open, and then his jaw dropped. A quick succession of movements then followed: Dean stood straight up, reacted to the drool with surprise, then attempted to wipe it away. Failing, he shook himself and made it to Cas in two strides.
"You're awake, you bastard!" he exclaimed, clasping Cas in a hug.
"Yes, I am... and there's nothing illegitimate about my birth, Dean."
"You were down for three days, Cas, three," Dean continued, the level of affection and annoyance in his voice intermingling so they couldn't be separated anymore. "With a fever running to a hundred and six."
"That sounds deeply unpleasant."
"You kept babbling about crap, Cas, you remember any of that?"
"No," he replied, tilting his head to one side. "Was this when you were putting wet fabric on my head?"
Dean squinted at Cas, "Yeah, to keep your temperature down."
"I see."
"You kept telling me to leave you to die, Cas," Dean said. "You really don't remember any of that?"
"You sound very angry," commented Cas.
"Damn right."
Dean started pacing. Out of all the human beings Cas had ever met, Dean went from sleeping to agitated out of his mind the fastest.
"You kept saying stuff like, 'You need to get out of here, I'm dying,' and then 'Naomi came to kill me, not you...' Like telling me when that shit was actually happening wasn't bad enough - "
"I'm sorry, I don't remember saying any of it," Cas placated. "After the first time, anyway."
"Okay, about that," Dean snapped, "what the hell, Cas?"
"Dean, I was trying to - "
"To what? Give up?"
"I was trying to save you," the angel spat back.
"What does that even mean? The Gates of Hell are closed, Cas, we should be breaking out the freaking champagne!"
The angel cast his eyes down. "Naomi, before the connection broke between us, the mind control modification she did to my vessel, she gave me an ultimatum."
"An ultimatum?"
"I believe that is the term, yes," Cas said.
"This was when you touched the Angel Tablet?" Dean asked.
"No, before, when my orders were to kill you." Cas tried to hide his shame but failed. "I kept asking her not to make me, and - she told me that I had to choose between you or them."
"You mean humans and angels?"
"No," Cas said. "You and Sam or the angels. She wanted me to kill you so I'd cut my bonds, my ties, to the human world. To Team Free Will as you called it."
"Cas..."
"But I couldn't do it. I just - couldn't kill you," he said. "And after that, Naomi put a price on my head. She couldn't reform me, so I have to die."
"Well, let'em try," Dean said. "Because - "
"Dean, we're talking about all the angels in Heaven, with no hell to oppose them, no demons to contain... I knew as soon as the gates were closed, they'd come for me."
"When last I checked, Kevin, his mother, me, Sam, we don't trust any angel other than you. So, they'd better suck it up and deal."
"I'm glad to be here," Cas offered, "I just don't want to put you at risk..."
"Can it, Cas. You're staying."
Castiel's stomach gave a long, rolling roar. Both he and Dean looked down in surprise.
"You feeling okay there, Cas?"
"I don't know what that was," the angel responded, honestly embarrassed.
"You're hungry, that was your stomach." Dean sized him up. "You still got your angel mojo right?"
Castiel zapped behind Dean with a flutter to prove his point. "Seems my mojo, as you call it, is still there."
"Damnit Cas, don't do that!"
"I remember being poisoned in battle," Cas said. "Maybe I haven't fully recovered?"
"Gilda, the fairy Charlie's dating, she told me she was able to cure all the poison, but you might be... a little more human for awhile," Dean stated. "But she didn't elaborate."
"Fairy magic isn't... compatible with demonic or angelic power. That must be why my head hurts and my stomach is... roaring."
Dean cracked a wide smile, "Well, I can fix that last one, at least. Let's get something to eat."
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Title: Never a Last Stand
Subtitle: Fairy Magic Will Do That
Author dracox-serdriel
Acknowledgements: Thanks to ganeshalemming for help in slaying the typo demon.
Word Count: 1,092
Episode Spoilers: Written after 8x19 "Taxi Driver"
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete. Feedback appreciated.
Castiel woke in a bed. His head hurt. His feet hurt. Everything between the two hurt.
Disorientation licked him. With no need to sleep, angels find unconsciousness a bewildering rarity. He shook himself and found his grace felt out of place. He remembered something about a fairy -
That didn't make a lot of sense to him, but then again, he woke up in a dark room wearing only underwear and an undershirt. So maybe life wasn't supposed to add up right now.
The confusion propelled him to an upright position, which he immediately regretted. Apparently moving too quickly in his current state could cause vertigo. He made a mental note of it for later.
"What... happened?" he said out loud.
He started to remember the fight, but all of that whirled by quickly. Then he remembered Naomi and Dean -
His heart sped up as he thought of how Dean defended him.
But after that, all he remembered was the POP! of the fairy magic and darkness. And someone putting cold, wet fabric on his head. This seemed to be a strange custom, but he definitely remembered it happening.
He heard breathing; someone must be nearby. "Dean?" Cas asked. "Hello?"
Cas felt around for a light switch, which felt a foolish thing for an angel to do. As he found the switch, he remembered Dean's voice over his head. "Com'on Cas, damnit," he said, "you gotta keep fighting, okay? Gilda said the fever would break, so just... please, just ride it out." He had said this while applying wet fabric to his forehead. The ritual was unknown to Cas; perhaps it was a human form of comfort.
He moved the switch and the lights snapped on, far too bright. Squinting, he looked around the room. It wasn't a motel room; Cas surmised it must be the "bat cave" Dean mentioned. The room didn't look like it was in a cave at all, but then again, Dean Winchester had a funny way of expressing things.
And there he was, sprawled out over a very short couch beyond the foot of the bed.
It looked as if Dean had fallen asleep by accident. Cas hardly imagined he would have willfully drooled down his front.
Finding his sea legs, Castiel made his way over to Dean to wake him up.
He didn't make it - Dean's eyes snapped open, and then his jaw dropped. A quick succession of movements then followed: Dean stood straight up, reacted to the drool with surprise, then attempted to wipe it away. Failing, he shook himself and made it to Cas in two strides.
"You're awake, you bastard!" he exclaimed, clasping Cas in a hug.
"Yes, I am... and there's nothing illegitimate about my birth, Dean."
"You were down for three days, Cas, three," Dean continued, the level of affection and annoyance in his voice intermingling so they couldn't be separated anymore. "With a fever running to a hundred and six."
"That sounds deeply unpleasant."
"You kept babbling about crap, Cas, you remember any of that?"
"No," he replied, tilting his head to one side. "Was this when you were putting wet fabric on my head?"
Dean squinted at Cas, "Yeah, to keep your temperature down."
"I see."
"You kept telling me to leave you to die, Cas," Dean said. "You really don't remember any of that?"
"You sound very angry," commented Cas.
"Damn right."
Dean started pacing. Out of all the human beings Cas had ever met, Dean went from sleeping to agitated out of his mind the fastest.
"You kept saying stuff like, 'You need to get out of here, I'm dying,' and then 'Naomi came to kill me, not you...' Like telling me when that shit was actually happening wasn't bad enough - "
"I'm sorry, I don't remember saying any of it," Cas placated. "After the first time, anyway."
"Okay, about that," Dean snapped, "what the hell, Cas?"
"Dean, I was trying to - "
"To what? Give up?"
"I was trying to save you," the angel spat back.
"What does that even mean? The Gates of Hell are closed, Cas, we should be breaking out the freaking champagne!"
The angel cast his eyes down. "Naomi, before the connection broke between us, the mind control modification she did to my vessel, she gave me an ultimatum."
"An ultimatum?"
"I believe that is the term, yes," Cas said.
"This was when you touched the Angel Tablet?" Dean asked.
"No, before, when my orders were to kill you." Cas tried to hide his shame but failed. "I kept asking her not to make me, and - she told me that I had to choose between you or them."
"You mean humans and angels?"
"No," Cas said. "You and Sam or the angels. She wanted me to kill you so I'd cut my bonds, my ties, to the human world. To Team Free Will as you called it."
"Cas..."
"But I couldn't do it. I just - couldn't kill you," he said. "And after that, Naomi put a price on my head. She couldn't reform me, so I have to die."
"Well, let'em try," Dean said. "Because - "
"Dean, we're talking about all the angels in Heaven, with no hell to oppose them, no demons to contain... I knew as soon as the gates were closed, they'd come for me."
"When last I checked, Kevin, his mother, me, Sam, we don't trust any angel other than you. So, they'd better suck it up and deal."
"I'm glad to be here," Cas offered, "I just don't want to put you at risk..."
"Can it, Cas. You're staying."
Castiel's stomach gave a long, rolling roar. Both he and Dean looked down in surprise.
"You feeling okay there, Cas?"
"I don't know what that was," the angel responded, honestly embarrassed.
"You're hungry, that was your stomach." Dean sized him up. "You still got your angel mojo right?"
Castiel zapped behind Dean with a flutter to prove his point. "Seems my mojo, as you call it, is still there."
"Damnit Cas, don't do that!"
"I remember being poisoned in battle," Cas said. "Maybe I haven't fully recovered?"
"Gilda, the fairy Charlie's dating, she told me she was able to cure all the poison, but you might be... a little more human for awhile," Dean stated. "But she didn't elaborate."
"Fairy magic isn't... compatible with demonic or angelic power. That must be why my head hurts and my stomach is... roaring."
Dean cracked a wide smile, "Well, I can fix that last one, at least. Let's get something to eat."
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