The time has come!
Oh, like I there was any chance at all I wasn't doing this.:)
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***
Meme responses! (From the Tell me about a story I haven't written meme here. Meme is still open, prompt there or here!
For inyourwings: [Lucifer sends Sam to a future where Dean has said yes to Michael instead of Sam saying yes to Lucifer]
Sam stumbled in the pitch black corridor, swearing when he jammed his shoulder against a sharp corner. He heard the sound of movement coming from up ahead and froze. "Who's there?" he heard, a harsh, rasping whisper that settled at the back of his skull. The voice came closer. "Is someone there?"
Sam took the chance of pulling out his lighter, the dim light revealing a dismal hallway lined with metal doors. "Cas?" he said, keeping his own voice low. "That you?"
"Sam?"
The voice came from two doors ahead and to the right. Sam approached, holding the lighter in front of him and looking over his shoulder; when he held the flame in front of the wire mesh window he heard Castiel hiss. "Sorry, sorry," he said, moving the light away. He wondered how long it had been since there'd been any kind of light down here, if just the tiny flame from the lighter was enough to get that reaction.
"Where are the others?"
"What others? Where the hell am I?"
The dim light wasn't strong enough to penetrate into the dark cell, but he could almost feel Castiel giving him that eyes-narrowed look. "Oh." Sam saw the fingers of one hand thread through the wire, the only part of Castiel he could see. "How did you get here?"
"Lucifer. Lucifer, he showed up in a dream and said he had something he needed to show me. Does that mean this is just a dream, then?"
"That would be a pleasant surprise."
Sam could see Castiel's nails had been ripped out so recently it was only just starting to heal, his fingers covered with new cuts and old scars. "How'd you wind up in there, Cas?"
"Michael doesn't plan on executing prisoners until the war's over."
"Michael? What do you...." Suddenly the meaning behind that hit Sam like a truck. Oh God, Dean. You didn't. "Where are we?"
"Fort Angeles."
Sam blinked at that. "What, like Los Angeles?"
"Not anymore. Sam, did anyone see you?"
Sam shook his head, realizing too late Castiel probably couldn't see him. "I don't think so."
"You need to get out of here before someone does. The east doors aren't as well guarded as the others, that's your best chance. Try to take one of their swords, if you can."
"How many angels am I dealing with here?"
The way Castiel went quiet at that turned Sam's stomach to ice. "You don't know."
"Know what? What the hell's going on upstairs?"
"Nothing. Not for years. There are no angels in Heaven, Sam. They're all here. Michael's summoned the army of the Host."
It took a second for the full horror of that to sink in. "Okay. Okay," he said, strangling down the panic as he examined the cell door. "How do I get you out of here?"
He could almost hear Castiel shake his head. "You can't. Only Michael can open this door."
"I'm not just leaving you here."
"You have to. Head south. There should still be a resistance cell operating there." The sound of a heavy slamming door rang through the corridor. "Sam, go."
Sam touched Castiel's hand; the cell block was cold but not cold enough for him to be shaking like this. "I'm coming back for you, Cas. You hear me? I promise. I'm not gonna leave you here."
He felt Castiel's hand go tight on the wire. "Do you mean it this time?"
***
For aerilex: [The one where Cas can't find them and Dean can't help.]
And it wasn't like this was even the first time he'd died. Dean did a quick count and realized this was time number three, at least of times he could remember, and Jesus, what the hell was wrong with his life that he could even have that thought?
This was the first time he'd come to after dying to find himself riding shotgun in an angel's head, though. So that was weird. Especially since Cas didn't seem to know he was there; Dean wondered for a second if he was haunting Cas, but if that was true he had the feeling Cas would just be able to see him and anyway, he'd been a ghost before and it hadn't felt like this. He could only see the room through Castiel's eyes; there was a dead Reaper on the floor, a single stab wound through its chest. Dean was just relieved it wasn't Tessa, which also struck him as kind of strange. He wondered for a second if maybe that was Sam's Reaper, the first time it hit him that if he was like this, Sam was probably dead too. Shit.
Dean could see his own body laid out the bed, sliced up enough that Dean couldn't tell what had actually killed him. He felt Castiel's hand shake as he reached for Dean's shoulder, almost but not quite touching him, then he was gone in a whoosh of wings, dragging Dean along with him.
***
Man, it was hard to focus like this. The next thing Dean knew Castiel had some mook angel up against a wall, the other guy dressed in a black suit like the goons Zachariah tended to run with. "Where are their souls?" Castiel growled, and Dean tried as hard as he could to shout Cas, I'm right here.
No one heard. Dean felt Castiel shake the other angel. "The souls of Sam and Dean Winchester. What was done with them?"
The angel just responded with a vicious, toothy grin. "Your carelessness with your things isn't our concern. We had nothing to do with this." Castiel dropped him, drawing his sword; Dean could tell Cas was too distracted to see the other guy had beaten him to it. Cas, from your left! Pay attention!
Castiel pivoted just in time to catch the blade through the meat of his shoulder instead of through his chest, and Jesus, Dean knew he wouldn't have been able to tell by looking at him but that hurt. Cas swung his own sword, catching the angel through the throat and dropping it. Dean felt him back away as the bad guy's wings burned themselves out, bracing himself against with one hand against the wall.
Dean had never realized what a mess Castiel really was under his borrowed skin before. Dean could feel there were pieces of him missing, torn and scarred over with rough edges, and wondered if that was where he was supposed to be connected to Heaven. Dean searched out where he was bleeding from this new stab wound, finding the jagged edges of light that were about to become one more scar. Dean wasn't sure what he could do but the way Cas hissed in a breath when he tried to move made up his mind. He put pressure on the torn edges, pressing them back together, feeling Cas shiver at the touch. For a second Dean thought that was it, Castiel would realize he was there now but there was nothing. Castiel straightened back up, and if he thought it strange that the wound had healed so much more quickly than usual he gave no sign.
He flew off again and Dean was helpless to do anything but follow.
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***
Meme responses! (From the Tell me about a story I haven't written meme here. Meme is still open, prompt there or here!
For inyourwings: [Lucifer sends Sam to a future where Dean has said yes to Michael instead of Sam saying yes to Lucifer]
Sam stumbled in the pitch black corridor, swearing when he jammed his shoulder against a sharp corner. He heard the sound of movement coming from up ahead and froze. "Who's there?" he heard, a harsh, rasping whisper that settled at the back of his skull. The voice came closer. "Is someone there?"
Sam took the chance of pulling out his lighter, the dim light revealing a dismal hallway lined with metal doors. "Cas?" he said, keeping his own voice low. "That you?"
"Sam?"
The voice came from two doors ahead and to the right. Sam approached, holding the lighter in front of him and looking over his shoulder; when he held the flame in front of the wire mesh window he heard Castiel hiss. "Sorry, sorry," he said, moving the light away. He wondered how long it had been since there'd been any kind of light down here, if just the tiny flame from the lighter was enough to get that reaction.
"Where are the others?"
"What others? Where the hell am I?"
The dim light wasn't strong enough to penetrate into the dark cell, but he could almost feel Castiel giving him that eyes-narrowed look. "Oh." Sam saw the fingers of one hand thread through the wire, the only part of Castiel he could see. "How did you get here?"
"Lucifer. Lucifer, he showed up in a dream and said he had something he needed to show me. Does that mean this is just a dream, then?"
"That would be a pleasant surprise."
Sam could see Castiel's nails had been ripped out so recently it was only just starting to heal, his fingers covered with new cuts and old scars. "How'd you wind up in there, Cas?"
"Michael doesn't plan on executing prisoners until the war's over."
"Michael? What do you...." Suddenly the meaning behind that hit Sam like a truck. Oh God, Dean. You didn't. "Where are we?"
"Fort Angeles."
Sam blinked at that. "What, like Los Angeles?"
"Not anymore. Sam, did anyone see you?"
Sam shook his head, realizing too late Castiel probably couldn't see him. "I don't think so."
"You need to get out of here before someone does. The east doors aren't as well guarded as the others, that's your best chance. Try to take one of their swords, if you can."
"How many angels am I dealing with here?"
The way Castiel went quiet at that turned Sam's stomach to ice. "You don't know."
"Know what? What the hell's going on upstairs?"
"Nothing. Not for years. There are no angels in Heaven, Sam. They're all here. Michael's summoned the army of the Host."
It took a second for the full horror of that to sink in. "Okay. Okay," he said, strangling down the panic as he examined the cell door. "How do I get you out of here?"
He could almost hear Castiel shake his head. "You can't. Only Michael can open this door."
"I'm not just leaving you here."
"You have to. Head south. There should still be a resistance cell operating there." The sound of a heavy slamming door rang through the corridor. "Sam, go."
Sam touched Castiel's hand; the cell block was cold but not cold enough for him to be shaking like this. "I'm coming back for you, Cas. You hear me? I promise. I'm not gonna leave you here."
He felt Castiel's hand go tight on the wire. "Do you mean it this time?"
***
For aerilex: [The one where Cas can't find them and Dean can't help.]
And it wasn't like this was even the first time he'd died. Dean did a quick count and realized this was time number three, at least of times he could remember, and Jesus, what the hell was wrong with his life that he could even have that thought?
This was the first time he'd come to after dying to find himself riding shotgun in an angel's head, though. So that was weird. Especially since Cas didn't seem to know he was there; Dean wondered for a second if he was haunting Cas, but if that was true he had the feeling Cas would just be able to see him and anyway, he'd been a ghost before and it hadn't felt like this. He could only see the room through Castiel's eyes; there was a dead Reaper on the floor, a single stab wound through its chest. Dean was just relieved it wasn't Tessa, which also struck him as kind of strange. He wondered for a second if maybe that was Sam's Reaper, the first time it hit him that if he was like this, Sam was probably dead too. Shit.
Dean could see his own body laid out the bed, sliced up enough that Dean couldn't tell what had actually killed him. He felt Castiel's hand shake as he reached for Dean's shoulder, almost but not quite touching him, then he was gone in a whoosh of wings, dragging Dean along with him.
***
Man, it was hard to focus like this. The next thing Dean knew Castiel had some mook angel up against a wall, the other guy dressed in a black suit like the goons Zachariah tended to run with. "Where are their souls?" Castiel growled, and Dean tried as hard as he could to shout Cas, I'm right here.
No one heard. Dean felt Castiel shake the other angel. "The souls of Sam and Dean Winchester. What was done with them?"
The angel just responded with a vicious, toothy grin. "Your carelessness with your things isn't our concern. We had nothing to do with this." Castiel dropped him, drawing his sword; Dean could tell Cas was too distracted to see the other guy had beaten him to it. Cas, from your left! Pay attention!
Castiel pivoted just in time to catch the blade through the meat of his shoulder instead of through his chest, and Jesus, Dean knew he wouldn't have been able to tell by looking at him but that hurt. Cas swung his own sword, catching the angel through the throat and dropping it. Dean felt him back away as the bad guy's wings burned themselves out, bracing himself against with one hand against the wall.
Dean had never realized what a mess Castiel really was under his borrowed skin before. Dean could feel there were pieces of him missing, torn and scarred over with rough edges, and wondered if that was where he was supposed to be connected to Heaven. Dean searched out where he was bleeding from this new stab wound, finding the jagged edges of light that were about to become one more scar. Dean wasn't sure what he could do but the way Cas hissed in a breath when he tried to move made up his mind. He put pressure on the torn edges, pressing them back together, feeling Cas shiver at the touch. For a second Dean thought that was it, Castiel would realize he was there now but there was nothing. Castiel straightened back up, and if he thought it strange that the wound had healed so much more quickly than usual he gave no sign.
He flew off again and Dean was helpless to do anything but follow.