Earthbound (Without these wings I learned to fly...) Part 6
Title: Earthbound (Without these wings I learned to fly...) Part 6
Author: fate_incomplete
Character(s): Castiel, Dean, Bobby
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~22,000
Warnings: The usual Winchester angst
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Despite Castiel’s almost constant insistence that he was fine, neither Bobby nor Dean had let him leave the house in almost a month. While he had managed to resist the vampire infection it had taken its toll on him. He had spent most of the first week sleeping and had barley ventured out of the panic room until the second week, but ever since then he had insisted that he was fine on numerous occasions and even wanted to get back into hunting again.
Dean was on the porch cleaning his gun when Castiel came out to sit with him.
“Bobby says you’re going to investigate some spirit activity,” Castiel said.
“Hmmm,” Dean replied, from the set of his shoulders Dean knew what Castiel was about to say.
“I’m coming with you.”
“Cas, you’re not...”
“Dean I’m fine, I just need to do something,” Castiel insisted.
“Cas you’re sick, when you’re sick you’re meant to stay in bed, and I don’t know, eat soup, not go off chasing angry spirits,” Dean said, doing his best to ignore the curious head tilt he was getting.
“I’m not sick, I’m fine. Besides no one’s brought me soup in bed,” Castiel replied.
“That’s not the point,” Dean said still ignoring the look Castiel was giving him.
“Then what is your point? That I’m a liability, that I’m no longer of any use?”
“That’s not what I meant either. You know you make the worst patient,” Dean said with a mixture of frustration and fondness.
“Bobby says otherwise, he says your worse,” Castiel replied, earning a glare from Dean.
“I’m coming this time, sitting around here doing nothing, its...I’m either coming with you or I’ll get Bobby to show me how to drive one of those,” he said waving a hand vaguely in the direction of the old cars littering the junk yard, “and I follow you or find something to hunt on my own.”
Dean rubbed his face in exasperation, caught between wanting to protect his friend and give him what he wanted.
“Fine you can come, but you’re staying in the car,” he said, pointing a finger at Castiel to get his point across, but gave up when Castiel simply smiled back at him triumphantly.
.................................
Castiel and Dean were sitting in the Impala across the street from the house where the spirit was supposed to be, Bobby was dozing in the back seat while they waited. They were waiting for the owners to leave so that Dean and Bobby could check the place out. Castiel had already been given strict orders to stay in the car several times.
“I don’t understand why we are waiting?” Castiel asked as he stared across at the house with a slight frown.
“Because people don’t appreciate it much when you show up on their doorstep and insist they leave the premises while you rid it of angry spirits is why,” Dean replied in exasperation, as Castiel had already asked this question several times. The month of enforced rest at Bobby’s had done nothing to improve his patience; if anything he was more impatient than ever.
“That doesn’t seem logical,” Castiel questioned.
“Yeah well, we’re humans, we’re not exactly known for being logical,” Dean replied, his own patience wearing thin from the wait.
“I’ve noticed, some more than others,” Castiel said as he turned to look at Dean.
“Yeah well angels are dicks, some more than others,” Dean bantered back.
“Yes but they grow on you,” Castiel replied absently, his brow creasing slightly as he considered his words. “Pardon the pun.”
They shared a smile before movement at the house caught Castiel’s attention. The couple that lived in the house were leaving.
“Hey Bobby, looks like we’re on,” Dean said, waking Bobby from his doze.
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Dean was working his way through the house room by room, his EMF definitely picking up spirit activity. He was placing hex bags out in the corners of the house. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end as he got ready to place the second one. Bobby was placing the other two hex bags to expel the spirit from the house. As usual it seemed the spirit wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
Before Dean could place his last bag in the hole in the wall the doors of the room slammed shut and Dean was hurled against the wall, held in place by the spirit. He could see her now as her anger lent her force. She stood in the middle of the room, her cold eyes filled with anger and hate as she stared at him.
“Leave,” Dean heard her whisper though her lips didn’t move.
“Sorry, not happening,” Dean said as he tried to work his arm free that was still holding the hex bag so that he could toss it in the wall. She was strong though and he was having trouble moving. I need a distraction, he thought as he looked around the room. He was still looking for a way to distract her when she suddenly seemed to stiffen. She cried out in anger, the room shaking from the force of it before she disappeared just as suddenly, like mist in the wind.
“What the hell?” Dean said as he slumped to the floor, released from her hold.
“I know I was meant to stay in the car, but apparently I’m not very good at following orders,” Castiel said as he walked through the door that was now open again.
“Thanks Cas. What the hell did you do?” Dean asked, trying his best not to sound impressed.
Castiel held his arm up, he was bleeding from a cut on his hand, “Enochian banishment sigil, comes in handy.”
“Hmm don’t suppose you thought of showing that to me that before we come in?” Dean asked grumpily as he rubbed at his head where it had hit the wall.
“I just remembered it,” Castiel said as he looked around the room.
“You just remembered it?” Dean said with an eyebrow raised in vexation.
“I know a large amount of lore, it’s a lot to sort through sometimes, ” Castiel replied with a shrug.
Dean merely grunted in answer and headed off to find Bobby.
They found Bobby in one of the bedrooms, rubbing at his arm and grumbling about damn spirits. The three of them did a quick sweep on the house to double check that Castiel’s banishment had worked completely before heading back to the car.
As they crossed the street to the Impala Castiel lagged behind. He was looking down the street to a bus stop.
“Cas you good?” Dean asked.
“Dean I’m fine I just...I’ll meet you back at Bobby’s,” Castiel replied distractedly.
“What? Why? Where are you going?” Dean asked as Castiel continued to look down the street at the bus stop.
Castiel turned back to Dean and smiled briefly in reassurance, “Dean I’ll see you back at Bobby’s,” he turned to walk away.
“Cas, wait, where are you going?” Dean asked as he reached out to grab Castiel’s arm.
“I’ll be back soon Dean.” Castiel assured.
“Cas!” Dean called but Castiel was already walking away.
“Bobby?” Dean asked looking for an answer.
Bobby just shrugged. “He does this every so often.”
“And you never ask where he goes?”
“Didn’t think it was any of my business,” Bobby said with a shrug.
Dean continued to stare in the direction Castiel had left, his jaw clenched.
“Dean, he always comes back.” Bobby reassured.
Dean drew his gaze back to Bobby briefly, before getting in the car, doing his best to hide his concern beneath a gruff look.
.................................
Dean paced around the motel room. Bobby had fallen asleep a couple hours ago, but Dean was too worried about Castiel to rest. It felt like ever since he had made the decision to return to Bobby, Castiel and the hunting life, that he spent most of his time worrying about Castiel, first with him being taken by the vampires and then the restless couple of weeks when they weren’t sure if he would recover. This was the first time he hadn’t been there watching over Castiel since he returned, and he couldn’t help but worry. Even though Castiel was normally more than capable of looking after himself, he knew he was still recovering from the vampire infection.
Looking over to check Bobby was still asleep he grabbed his jacket and keys and headed outside, calling the phone company to locate Castiel by using the GPS in his phone.
He parked the Impala across the road from the cemetery. According to his GPS this was where Castiel was. He got out of the car whilst trying to figure out what on earth Castiel would be doing in a cemetery. As he walked through the headstones he could see Castiel sitting on a bench beneath an avenue of pine trees. He stopped and leaned against a particularly large headstone and watched him.
It suddenly occurred to him what town he was in. Muncie Indiana. There was really only one reason Castiel would be in this cemetery. Gabriel. Dean studied Castiel for a moment, before a stab of guilt from intruding on this personal moment made him turn and leave. With one last backward glance he left without letting Castiel know he had been there.
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Castiel sat in the cemetery near Gabriel’s grave. His eyes were unfocused as his fingers toyed with the pages of the book he was holding. He had taken it from his desk in the panic room before leaving with Dean and Bobby. He had found it months ago now, just before he had been captured by the vampires.
He had spent months looking for the spell it contained. Tracking the vampires had been easy in comparison. He had told no one what he had been looking for, not even Bobby though it had been hard to keep it from him. He had finally found the spell just before he had run into the vampires that Kate had enlisted to track down Dean in her revenge attempt. He had postponed the ritual in order to track the vampires instead, Dean’s safety taking precedent.
He had kept his research secret as he had no idea if his plan would work. It was really just a desperate act to try and give to Dean the one thing he needed most. He had spent as much time making sure the spell would not have any adverse effects as well as on whether it would actually work.
Castiel idly flipped through the pages of the book as he considered one last time whether he should go through with the spell within it. As he glanced towards Gabriel’s grave marker, he realised he had already made the decision.
He waited till night had fallen before proceeding, setting out all the components of the spell within his motel room. He double checked all his sigils and ran over the invocation in his head yet again. He stood in the middle of the room with his eyes closed taking a deep breath and began. His voice low as he enunciated each word in Enochian.
The spell was ancient and he could feel the thrum of power within the words. His concentration solid as the power of the words instilled an almost forgotten power within him. It was a spell that could only be performed by an angel, it was one of the reasons he had been hesitant to try it earlier. However his brush with the vampires had reminded him that he was still an angel, even if he no longer had any of his angelic powers.
His hands deftly sketched the remaining sigils as he finished the incantation, sweat forming on his brow from the effort. A whisper of doubt crept in as the lingering weakness from the vampiric infection caused pinpoints of stars to form behind his closed eyelids from the exertion.
As the last words left his tongue he swayed and staggered, reaching for the end of the bed to stop himself from falling. He opened his eyes and looked around the room. He slumped onto the bed as he saw that the room was empty. He sighed, his head falling into his hands.
It had felt as though the spell had worked, he had felt the power behind the words. However, the room remained empty, a testament to its failure. Disappointment flooded through him. He lay back on the bed, his head throbbing. It had been a desperate attempt; he had not let anyone else know as he hadn’t wanted to get their hopes up. Yet somehow, despite his reservations his own hopes had been raised. He closed his eyes and let the despair fill him, letting the draining feeling carry him off to a deep sleep.
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Castiel woke the next morning, his mind still heavily occupied by the failed spell. He cleaned the room and left. He wandered the streets, delaying his return to Dean and Bobby, feeling as though he couldn’t face them despite the fact they had no idea of what he had attempted. In his random wandering he came across a park, the sound of children playing drawing him to it, their innocence in all the problems surrounding them offering a moment of release.
As he wandered through the park he watched the children, watched their parents, so unaware of the chaos of the world around them as they went about their lives. Lost in his thoughts he almost didn’t notice him, the young man sitting on a bench with his back to Castiel. Something about him caught his attention, a jolt of recognition halting his steps in disbelief. He stood for a moment staring at the man, wanting it to be real but not sure if it was. He walked up to the bench and sat next to him.
“Hello Sam,” Castiel said, still not quite sure if what he was seeing was real. He had been searching for a way to rescue Sam and Adam from Lucifer’s cage for months only to stumble across Sam in a park. He wasn’t sure what he had expected when he did the summoning spell the night before, but this certainly hadn’t been it.
Sam looked at him curiously. “Do I know you?”
Castiel’s heart sank, “I’m sorry, I thought we knew each other,” he said his voice thick with emotion at the realization that this might not be a simple, happy reunion.
Sam was still studying him as though there was something more to this man, something familiar, though the more he tried to think what it was the further it slipped away from him.
Sam didn’t object when Castiel remained sitting next to him on the park bench though, which he took to be a good sign. Everything about Sam seemed to be the real Sam, except for the fact he seemed to have no idea who he was. Castiel started up a general conversation with him to try and figure out what had happened. They chatted idly for a few minutes and Castiel thought that Sam almost seemed at ease with him, as if his memories might simply be locked away somewhere in his subconscious. That on some level something within him recognised Castiel.
As they chatted Castiel’s mind was racing, thinking through what could have happened to him, how he could have come to have been out of the cage yet not have his memories. Several possibilities came to mind. As they continued to talk, he thought there was one way to find out. He had to get Sam’s memories back. He searched his own mind for any lore he could think of to achieve that. As they stopped talking and sat in silence watching the children in the park play an idea came to him.
It was an Enochian spell, one that would only work if enough of Sam’s memories were still in his subconscious, and if he would trust Castiel. ‘There was only one way to find out’ he thought.
“You remind me of someone I once knew,” Castiel said as he sat back in the bench, his eyes remaining on the children even though he could sense Sam’s eyes flick to him at the comment.
“I do?” Sam asked quietly, he was studying Castiel as if he held the key to some secret, a secret he couldn’t remember. Castiel looked back at Sam, the look of fear yet hope that shone in his eyes raised Castiel’s own hopes.
“Yes, someone I knew quite well who I thought was lost.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get your name,” Sam asked.
“It’s Castiel.”
Sam paused for a moment as if the name touched something in his mind. “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure,” Castiel replied.
“A couple of months ago, I was standing under a street light outside a house. There was a family inside that I didn’t know yet something told me that I should. I walked away instead of speaking to them, though I keep feeling that perhaps I should have,” he paused, studying his hands as if afraid to continue, but after a moment he looked back up into Castiel’s eyes. “I have no memories from before that.” He studied Castiel’s eyes as though looking for any hint of judgment, any indication that this strange man who was sitting next to him thought he was crazy, but he seemed to find none.
At Sam’s words the failure of the spell last night made sense to Castiel. The spell had been designed to pull someone from hell, where Lucifer’s cage was, but Sam hadn’t been in hell. Somehow he had been released from the cage months ago though with none of his memories. The summoning spell therefore had a different affect, no doubt drawing both Castiel and Sam together here in this park.
Castiel’s thoughts were still racing with so many questions as Sam continued to look at him, studying him as though he held all the answers to Sam’s forgotten past.
“I don’t know why, but I feel as if you know something. Why did you call me Sam?” Sam asked hesitantly.
Castiel paused briefly, unsure just what he should tell Sam, but he always believed in the truth so went with his instinct.
“Because that’s your name.”
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The spell was an ancient one, it had taken Castiel a while to gather what he needed. He finished drawing the sigils on the floor as Sam sat quietly in the chair watching him. Castiel had been relieved that enough of Sam’s memories, rooted in his subconscious, were left that Sam had trusted him without knowing why.
“It’s ready Sam,” he said gesturing for Sam to stand in the middle of the sigils. Sam complied, though with a look of hesitation as he faced Castiel who still stood outside the circle.
“Do you trust me Sam?” Castiel asked, gently holding Sam’s eyes.
“Yes,” Sam answered though he had no idea why, he had only just met this man after all.
Castiel stepped into the circle, reached out and took one of Sam’s hands, placing his other hand over the top. The gesture flashed an image in Sam’s mind. His hand held out expectantly, the hesitation before the gesture is reciprocated, the reproach and judgment in blue eyes that seemed to peer into his soul, laying all his secrets bare. Sam blinked, his eyes fixated on the hands still holding his. He looked up into Castiel’s eyes. So similar to the ones in the flash of memory, yet the soul searing gaze now tempered by weariness, loss and compassion.
“Cas?” Sam said hesitantly, memories trying to push their way into his consciousness.
“Hello Sam,” Castiel replied with a slight hint of a smile and relief in his eyes.
The memories seemed to open like a floodgate in Sam’s mind, memories of Castiel, from his otherworldly strangeness in that first meeting to his slide into near human condition. The rush of images made him gasp, as his mind expanded the view to another man that was always with the angel that stood before him. He saw them now in his memory, standing too close, eyes locked either in battle or bonded in mutual understanding, he had never been sure which it was.
A flood of emotion swept over Sam, his legs giving way beneath him. He slumped to his knees, Castiel reached out to hold him by the shoulders and steady him.
“Dean,” Sam whispered. “Cas, I remember Dean.”
“It’s ok Sam. I’ll take you to him.”
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“Bobby, he hasn’t called, I mean he’s still weak from that damn vampire and he’s not exactly the best at fitting in...”
“Dean, Cas will be fine, would you stop whining like a princess.”
Dean merely scowled at Bobby and returned to pacing in silence until Bobby lost patience with him and ordered him out of the kitchen. He spent another afternoon trying to work on the El Camino he had been fixing up since he returned to Bobby’s.
It was near dark when Bobby took a beer out onto the porch. He kicked back in one of the chairs, listening to Dean agitatedly cleaning one of his weapons in the kitchen. He may have mocked Dean about his worry for the angel, but he was beginning to wonder where Castiel was himself. Dean was right; he had never been gone this long before, not without calling at least.
Just as the sun dipped below the horizon headlights came up the road towards the house. Bobby sat his beer down and absently laid his hand on the shot gun leaning against the chair. He relaxed and sighed in relief when he saw Castiel get out of the car. His breath caught in his throat when he saw who was with him.
Dean hadn’t heard the car pull up outside so nearly jumped when he looked up to see Castiel standing in the doorway. “’Bout time you decided to turn up,” Dean said grumpily. He was about to open his mouth to further rebuke the angel when he saw the figure standing behind him.
He froze, unable to think for a moment and comprehend who was standing there. His mind went from stall into overdrive as thoughts started to rush through his head. Was it Sam, was it Lucifer somehow out to torment them some more or was it just his imagination and wishful thinking.
He broke his gaze from Sam and looked to Castiel who seemed to know what he was thinking.
“It’s really him Dean,” Castiel reassured. Seeing the compassion in Castiel’s eyes broke the spell he seemed to be under.
“Dean, it’s me,” Sam said quietly, his eyes glistening, raw with emotion at seeing the brother that he had only recently remembered.
“Sammy,” Dean said and he engulfed his brother in his arms.
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Epilogue...
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Author: fate_incomplete
Character(s): Castiel, Dean, Bobby
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~22,000
Warnings: The usual Winchester angst
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Despite Castiel’s almost constant insistence that he was fine, neither Bobby nor Dean had let him leave the house in almost a month. While he had managed to resist the vampire infection it had taken its toll on him. He had spent most of the first week sleeping and had barley ventured out of the panic room until the second week, but ever since then he had insisted that he was fine on numerous occasions and even wanted to get back into hunting again.
Dean was on the porch cleaning his gun when Castiel came out to sit with him.
“Bobby says you’re going to investigate some spirit activity,” Castiel said.
“Hmmm,” Dean replied, from the set of his shoulders Dean knew what Castiel was about to say.
“I’m coming with you.”
“Cas, you’re not...”
“Dean I’m fine, I just need to do something,” Castiel insisted.
“Cas you’re sick, when you’re sick you’re meant to stay in bed, and I don’t know, eat soup, not go off chasing angry spirits,” Dean said, doing his best to ignore the curious head tilt he was getting.
“I’m not sick, I’m fine. Besides no one’s brought me soup in bed,” Castiel replied.
“That’s not the point,” Dean said still ignoring the look Castiel was giving him.
“Then what is your point? That I’m a liability, that I’m no longer of any use?”
“That’s not what I meant either. You know you make the worst patient,” Dean said with a mixture of frustration and fondness.
“Bobby says otherwise, he says your worse,” Castiel replied, earning a glare from Dean.
“I’m coming this time, sitting around here doing nothing, its...I’m either coming with you or I’ll get Bobby to show me how to drive one of those,” he said waving a hand vaguely in the direction of the old cars littering the junk yard, “and I follow you or find something to hunt on my own.”
Dean rubbed his face in exasperation, caught between wanting to protect his friend and give him what he wanted.
“Fine you can come, but you’re staying in the car,” he said, pointing a finger at Castiel to get his point across, but gave up when Castiel simply smiled back at him triumphantly.
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Castiel and Dean were sitting in the Impala across the street from the house where the spirit was supposed to be, Bobby was dozing in the back seat while they waited. They were waiting for the owners to leave so that Dean and Bobby could check the place out. Castiel had already been given strict orders to stay in the car several times.
“I don’t understand why we are waiting?” Castiel asked as he stared across at the house with a slight frown.
“Because people don’t appreciate it much when you show up on their doorstep and insist they leave the premises while you rid it of angry spirits is why,” Dean replied in exasperation, as Castiel had already asked this question several times. The month of enforced rest at Bobby’s had done nothing to improve his patience; if anything he was more impatient than ever.
“That doesn’t seem logical,” Castiel questioned.
“Yeah well, we’re humans, we’re not exactly known for being logical,” Dean replied, his own patience wearing thin from the wait.
“I’ve noticed, some more than others,” Castiel said as he turned to look at Dean.
“Yeah well angels are dicks, some more than others,” Dean bantered back.
“Yes but they grow on you,” Castiel replied absently, his brow creasing slightly as he considered his words. “Pardon the pun.”
They shared a smile before movement at the house caught Castiel’s attention. The couple that lived in the house were leaving.
“Hey Bobby, looks like we’re on,” Dean said, waking Bobby from his doze.
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Dean was working his way through the house room by room, his EMF definitely picking up spirit activity. He was placing hex bags out in the corners of the house. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end as he got ready to place the second one. Bobby was placing the other two hex bags to expel the spirit from the house. As usual it seemed the spirit wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
Before Dean could place his last bag in the hole in the wall the doors of the room slammed shut and Dean was hurled against the wall, held in place by the spirit. He could see her now as her anger lent her force. She stood in the middle of the room, her cold eyes filled with anger and hate as she stared at him.
“Leave,” Dean heard her whisper though her lips didn’t move.
“Sorry, not happening,” Dean said as he tried to work his arm free that was still holding the hex bag so that he could toss it in the wall. She was strong though and he was having trouble moving. I need a distraction, he thought as he looked around the room. He was still looking for a way to distract her when she suddenly seemed to stiffen. She cried out in anger, the room shaking from the force of it before she disappeared just as suddenly, like mist in the wind.
“What the hell?” Dean said as he slumped to the floor, released from her hold.
“I know I was meant to stay in the car, but apparently I’m not very good at following orders,” Castiel said as he walked through the door that was now open again.
“Thanks Cas. What the hell did you do?” Dean asked, trying his best not to sound impressed.
Castiel held his arm up, he was bleeding from a cut on his hand, “Enochian banishment sigil, comes in handy.”
“Hmm don’t suppose you thought of showing that to me that before we come in?” Dean asked grumpily as he rubbed at his head where it had hit the wall.
“I just remembered it,” Castiel said as he looked around the room.
“You just remembered it?” Dean said with an eyebrow raised in vexation.
“I know a large amount of lore, it’s a lot to sort through sometimes, ” Castiel replied with a shrug.
Dean merely grunted in answer and headed off to find Bobby.
They found Bobby in one of the bedrooms, rubbing at his arm and grumbling about damn spirits. The three of them did a quick sweep on the house to double check that Castiel’s banishment had worked completely before heading back to the car.
As they crossed the street to the Impala Castiel lagged behind. He was looking down the street to a bus stop.
“Cas you good?” Dean asked.
“Dean I’m fine I just...I’ll meet you back at Bobby’s,” Castiel replied distractedly.
“What? Why? Where are you going?” Dean asked as Castiel continued to look down the street at the bus stop.
Castiel turned back to Dean and smiled briefly in reassurance, “Dean I’ll see you back at Bobby’s,” he turned to walk away.
“Cas, wait, where are you going?” Dean asked as he reached out to grab Castiel’s arm.
“I’ll be back soon Dean.” Castiel assured.
“Cas!” Dean called but Castiel was already walking away.
“Bobby?” Dean asked looking for an answer.
Bobby just shrugged. “He does this every so often.”
“And you never ask where he goes?”
“Didn’t think it was any of my business,” Bobby said with a shrug.
Dean continued to stare in the direction Castiel had left, his jaw clenched.
“Dean, he always comes back.” Bobby reassured.
Dean drew his gaze back to Bobby briefly, before getting in the car, doing his best to hide his concern beneath a gruff look.
.................................
Dean paced around the motel room. Bobby had fallen asleep a couple hours ago, but Dean was too worried about Castiel to rest. It felt like ever since he had made the decision to return to Bobby, Castiel and the hunting life, that he spent most of his time worrying about Castiel, first with him being taken by the vampires and then the restless couple of weeks when they weren’t sure if he would recover. This was the first time he hadn’t been there watching over Castiel since he returned, and he couldn’t help but worry. Even though Castiel was normally more than capable of looking after himself, he knew he was still recovering from the vampire infection.
Looking over to check Bobby was still asleep he grabbed his jacket and keys and headed outside, calling the phone company to locate Castiel by using the GPS in his phone.
He parked the Impala across the road from the cemetery. According to his GPS this was where Castiel was. He got out of the car whilst trying to figure out what on earth Castiel would be doing in a cemetery. As he walked through the headstones he could see Castiel sitting on a bench beneath an avenue of pine trees. He stopped and leaned against a particularly large headstone and watched him.
It suddenly occurred to him what town he was in. Muncie Indiana. There was really only one reason Castiel would be in this cemetery. Gabriel. Dean studied Castiel for a moment, before a stab of guilt from intruding on this personal moment made him turn and leave. With one last backward glance he left without letting Castiel know he had been there.
.................................
Castiel sat in the cemetery near Gabriel’s grave. His eyes were unfocused as his fingers toyed with the pages of the book he was holding. He had taken it from his desk in the panic room before leaving with Dean and Bobby. He had found it months ago now, just before he had been captured by the vampires.
He had spent months looking for the spell it contained. Tracking the vampires had been easy in comparison. He had told no one what he had been looking for, not even Bobby though it had been hard to keep it from him. He had finally found the spell just before he had run into the vampires that Kate had enlisted to track down Dean in her revenge attempt. He had postponed the ritual in order to track the vampires instead, Dean’s safety taking precedent.
He had kept his research secret as he had no idea if his plan would work. It was really just a desperate act to try and give to Dean the one thing he needed most. He had spent as much time making sure the spell would not have any adverse effects as well as on whether it would actually work.
Castiel idly flipped through the pages of the book as he considered one last time whether he should go through with the spell within it. As he glanced towards Gabriel’s grave marker, he realised he had already made the decision.
He waited till night had fallen before proceeding, setting out all the components of the spell within his motel room. He double checked all his sigils and ran over the invocation in his head yet again. He stood in the middle of the room with his eyes closed taking a deep breath and began. His voice low as he enunciated each word in Enochian.
The spell was ancient and he could feel the thrum of power within the words. His concentration solid as the power of the words instilled an almost forgotten power within him. It was a spell that could only be performed by an angel, it was one of the reasons he had been hesitant to try it earlier. However his brush with the vampires had reminded him that he was still an angel, even if he no longer had any of his angelic powers.
His hands deftly sketched the remaining sigils as he finished the incantation, sweat forming on his brow from the effort. A whisper of doubt crept in as the lingering weakness from the vampiric infection caused pinpoints of stars to form behind his closed eyelids from the exertion.
As the last words left his tongue he swayed and staggered, reaching for the end of the bed to stop himself from falling. He opened his eyes and looked around the room. He slumped onto the bed as he saw that the room was empty. He sighed, his head falling into his hands.
It had felt as though the spell had worked, he had felt the power behind the words. However, the room remained empty, a testament to its failure. Disappointment flooded through him. He lay back on the bed, his head throbbing. It had been a desperate attempt; he had not let anyone else know as he hadn’t wanted to get their hopes up. Yet somehow, despite his reservations his own hopes had been raised. He closed his eyes and let the despair fill him, letting the draining feeling carry him off to a deep sleep.
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Castiel woke the next morning, his mind still heavily occupied by the failed spell. He cleaned the room and left. He wandered the streets, delaying his return to Dean and Bobby, feeling as though he couldn’t face them despite the fact they had no idea of what he had attempted. In his random wandering he came across a park, the sound of children playing drawing him to it, their innocence in all the problems surrounding them offering a moment of release.
As he wandered through the park he watched the children, watched their parents, so unaware of the chaos of the world around them as they went about their lives. Lost in his thoughts he almost didn’t notice him, the young man sitting on a bench with his back to Castiel. Something about him caught his attention, a jolt of recognition halting his steps in disbelief. He stood for a moment staring at the man, wanting it to be real but not sure if it was. He walked up to the bench and sat next to him.
“Hello Sam,” Castiel said, still not quite sure if what he was seeing was real. He had been searching for a way to rescue Sam and Adam from Lucifer’s cage for months only to stumble across Sam in a park. He wasn’t sure what he had expected when he did the summoning spell the night before, but this certainly hadn’t been it.
Sam looked at him curiously. “Do I know you?”
Castiel’s heart sank, “I’m sorry, I thought we knew each other,” he said his voice thick with emotion at the realization that this might not be a simple, happy reunion.
Sam was still studying him as though there was something more to this man, something familiar, though the more he tried to think what it was the further it slipped away from him.
Sam didn’t object when Castiel remained sitting next to him on the park bench though, which he took to be a good sign. Everything about Sam seemed to be the real Sam, except for the fact he seemed to have no idea who he was. Castiel started up a general conversation with him to try and figure out what had happened. They chatted idly for a few minutes and Castiel thought that Sam almost seemed at ease with him, as if his memories might simply be locked away somewhere in his subconscious. That on some level something within him recognised Castiel.
As they chatted Castiel’s mind was racing, thinking through what could have happened to him, how he could have come to have been out of the cage yet not have his memories. Several possibilities came to mind. As they continued to talk, he thought there was one way to find out. He had to get Sam’s memories back. He searched his own mind for any lore he could think of to achieve that. As they stopped talking and sat in silence watching the children in the park play an idea came to him.
It was an Enochian spell, one that would only work if enough of Sam’s memories were still in his subconscious, and if he would trust Castiel. ‘There was only one way to find out’ he thought.
“You remind me of someone I once knew,” Castiel said as he sat back in the bench, his eyes remaining on the children even though he could sense Sam’s eyes flick to him at the comment.
“I do?” Sam asked quietly, he was studying Castiel as if he held the key to some secret, a secret he couldn’t remember. Castiel looked back at Sam, the look of fear yet hope that shone in his eyes raised Castiel’s own hopes.
“Yes, someone I knew quite well who I thought was lost.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get your name,” Sam asked.
“It’s Castiel.”
Sam paused for a moment as if the name touched something in his mind. “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure,” Castiel replied.
“A couple of months ago, I was standing under a street light outside a house. There was a family inside that I didn’t know yet something told me that I should. I walked away instead of speaking to them, though I keep feeling that perhaps I should have,” he paused, studying his hands as if afraid to continue, but after a moment he looked back up into Castiel’s eyes. “I have no memories from before that.” He studied Castiel’s eyes as though looking for any hint of judgment, any indication that this strange man who was sitting next to him thought he was crazy, but he seemed to find none.
At Sam’s words the failure of the spell last night made sense to Castiel. The spell had been designed to pull someone from hell, where Lucifer’s cage was, but Sam hadn’t been in hell. Somehow he had been released from the cage months ago though with none of his memories. The summoning spell therefore had a different affect, no doubt drawing both Castiel and Sam together here in this park.
Castiel’s thoughts were still racing with so many questions as Sam continued to look at him, studying him as though he held all the answers to Sam’s forgotten past.
“I don’t know why, but I feel as if you know something. Why did you call me Sam?” Sam asked hesitantly.
Castiel paused briefly, unsure just what he should tell Sam, but he always believed in the truth so went with his instinct.
“Because that’s your name.”
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The spell was an ancient one, it had taken Castiel a while to gather what he needed. He finished drawing the sigils on the floor as Sam sat quietly in the chair watching him. Castiel had been relieved that enough of Sam’s memories, rooted in his subconscious, were left that Sam had trusted him without knowing why.
“It’s ready Sam,” he said gesturing for Sam to stand in the middle of the sigils. Sam complied, though with a look of hesitation as he faced Castiel who still stood outside the circle.
“Do you trust me Sam?” Castiel asked, gently holding Sam’s eyes.
“Yes,” Sam answered though he had no idea why, he had only just met this man after all.
Castiel stepped into the circle, reached out and took one of Sam’s hands, placing his other hand over the top. The gesture flashed an image in Sam’s mind. His hand held out expectantly, the hesitation before the gesture is reciprocated, the reproach and judgment in blue eyes that seemed to peer into his soul, laying all his secrets bare. Sam blinked, his eyes fixated on the hands still holding his. He looked up into Castiel’s eyes. So similar to the ones in the flash of memory, yet the soul searing gaze now tempered by weariness, loss and compassion.
“Cas?” Sam said hesitantly, memories trying to push their way into his consciousness.
“Hello Sam,” Castiel replied with a slight hint of a smile and relief in his eyes.
The memories seemed to open like a floodgate in Sam’s mind, memories of Castiel, from his otherworldly strangeness in that first meeting to his slide into near human condition. The rush of images made him gasp, as his mind expanded the view to another man that was always with the angel that stood before him. He saw them now in his memory, standing too close, eyes locked either in battle or bonded in mutual understanding, he had never been sure which it was.
A flood of emotion swept over Sam, his legs giving way beneath him. He slumped to his knees, Castiel reached out to hold him by the shoulders and steady him.
“Dean,” Sam whispered. “Cas, I remember Dean.”
“It’s ok Sam. I’ll take you to him.”
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“Bobby, he hasn’t called, I mean he’s still weak from that damn vampire and he’s not exactly the best at fitting in...”
“Dean, Cas will be fine, would you stop whining like a princess.”
Dean merely scowled at Bobby and returned to pacing in silence until Bobby lost patience with him and ordered him out of the kitchen. He spent another afternoon trying to work on the El Camino he had been fixing up since he returned to Bobby’s.
It was near dark when Bobby took a beer out onto the porch. He kicked back in one of the chairs, listening to Dean agitatedly cleaning one of his weapons in the kitchen. He may have mocked Dean about his worry for the angel, but he was beginning to wonder where Castiel was himself. Dean was right; he had never been gone this long before, not without calling at least.
Just as the sun dipped below the horizon headlights came up the road towards the house. Bobby sat his beer down and absently laid his hand on the shot gun leaning against the chair. He relaxed and sighed in relief when he saw Castiel get out of the car. His breath caught in his throat when he saw who was with him.
Dean hadn’t heard the car pull up outside so nearly jumped when he looked up to see Castiel standing in the doorway. “’Bout time you decided to turn up,” Dean said grumpily. He was about to open his mouth to further rebuke the angel when he saw the figure standing behind him.
He froze, unable to think for a moment and comprehend who was standing there. His mind went from stall into overdrive as thoughts started to rush through his head. Was it Sam, was it Lucifer somehow out to torment them some more or was it just his imagination and wishful thinking.
He broke his gaze from Sam and looked to Castiel who seemed to know what he was thinking.
“It’s really him Dean,” Castiel reassured. Seeing the compassion in Castiel’s eyes broke the spell he seemed to be under.
“Dean, it’s me,” Sam said quietly, his eyes glistening, raw with emotion at seeing the brother that he had only recently remembered.
“Sammy,” Dean said and he engulfed his brother in his arms.
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Epilogue...
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