[Supernatural] What Makes An Angel (1/?)
Title: What Makes An Angel. (1/?)
Author: SilverCrystalC
Famdom:Supernatural
Rating: PG?
Warnings: no beta.
Word Count: WIP
Summary:Dean always thought it would be pretty kick-ass to have angel powers. He just didn't think it would ever actually happen.
Notes: Wip. Maybe if put some of this down all the alternate versions of it will stop bothering me. In Media res, man. (also, second fic ever.) If anyone wants to give me tips on how to write, or tell me I'm doing something wrong, feel free. I need a beta. =(
The world was whited out. High pitched buzzing screamed in his ears. He couldn't feel his body. He couldn't feel anything. What was going on?
The high pitched sound lessened slightly, as if passing him by. He could feel pressure against his front, sort of burning. He could see eyes now, blue-blue-blue like Cas, but not Cas. He didn't know how long he stared at Not-Cas before he noticed that the eyes were moving. Not-Cas was closing his eyes. Why was he closing them so slow?
He could see more now. There was a window behind him, sunlight pouring through with dust motes hanging motionlessly within. Not-Cas had brown hair, laugh lines on his face. It wasn't just Not-Cas's eyes that were moving, it was all of Not-Cas. He was falling backwards, and down. But it was so slow. He couldn't have moved more than an inch the whole time Dean was standing there. Dean started to draw in a breath to speak, noticing how that, to, seemed to be slowed down, before his eyes caught on the Angel Blade sticking out of Not-Cas's neck, and the hand attached to it. Oh.
Memory returned the same instant that time started to catch up to him. Cas was just behind him, it was his blade in Not-Cas's, Remiel's, neck. Sammy was to his right, outside of the ritual circle Remiel had set up. Dean was right in between Remiel and Cas. He was trying to stop something, wasn't he? There was a trap, for Cas, for him and Sam, for Remiel? And there was a message now, he had to give Cas. It felt like it was on the tip of his tongue; it was important, for Cas.
The sound of Remiel's sword hitting the floor was like a gunshot. He turned to Cas, still in slow motion but speeding up all the time, just in time to see Cas finish stumbling back to the wall behind him. He had wings. All of him glowed, brighter every second, except for one part: a tearing blackness within his right wing. Dean had a flash memory of Remiel swinging his sword at what seemed to be thin air, right before Cas had shown up. Shit. That blackness did not look good, and it seemed to be growing.
"You must," Castiel suddenly coughs, blood dribbling down his chin. "You must leave here. The death of Ramiel will be felt by others." He slid slowly down the wall he had collapsed against, eyes closed.
"Damnit, Cas!" Dean felt like he teleported across the room as he was suddenly there, grabbing Castiel, keeping him upright while wondering how to rearrange limbs and wings to carry him. "Sam!" he called, staring at Castiel's injured wing while pulling his body away from the wall.
The damage to the wing seemed small, in comparison to their size, but Dean could see the way that the damage from the injury seemed to creep across Cas's '... what? Grace threads? Grace strings?' What his wings were made of. He could also feel the way that they were fraying and moving out of their proper pattern, like the sun's heat falling across his skin. It looked like a slower version of Ramiel as he died, and made his heart clench tight.
"Here, Dean." Sam was at Castiel's uninjured side, lifting an arm and swinging it across his shoulders. The uninjured wing seemed to phase into Sam slightly before it moved back and out of the way. Dean quickly shifted his hold to Castiel's injured side, but twisted around sideways, reaching for Castiel's injured wing even as they dragged him toward the abandoned house's exit. For a second, it was like trying to grab a spiderweb by the center without breaking it, before the wing suddenly firmed under his touch.
What appeared to be a solid glowing feathery appendage when seen from the other side of the room was millions upon millions of softly glowing strings when seen from up close. The patterns they made were beautiful. Dean folded the wing against Castiel's back before reaching out to the injured part, having some vague thought about pressure on bad injuries. Dean suddenly stumbled against something as they moved and heard Sam say something about his eyes, paying it no mind as his hand seemed to get sucked into the injured area. It was like completing a circuit. For a second that lasted an eternity, Dean was part of Cas. He could feel the energy flowing throughout his real form, folded like origami into Castiel's vessel. He could feel each individual strand, vibrating faster than should be possible to sense. He could feel Castiel's thoughts, worry worry worry for Sam and him, pain pain horror from the injury, acceptance of his own oncoming death, while under it all an utter sadness for too many things to name. He could also feel for himself the pain of the wing injury, bleeding grace, unraveling his, Cas's, form, tearing though him like death.
'No!' He refused to let Cas die, not after everything. At this thought, he felt himself separate from Cas, regaining his sense of self just in time to for his body to run into something. It was his car. His free hand seemed glued to Cas's injury, so he let go of Cas with his other to fish in his pocket for his keys. He quickly unlocked the back door they were leaning on before tossing the keys to Sam. Sam looked briefly shocked before snapping out of it and helping Dean move Cas into the back seat. Sam tore off to the drivers side after he saw that Dean had Cas mostly onto the seat, stating the car just as Dean crawled in after Cas, slamming the back door behind him. "Drive!" Dean growled, feeling his mind start to be sucked back into the injury he was still holding. The injury that seemed to be frozen in the middle of unraveling.
"What's wrong with him, Dean?" Sam interrupted, for a second sounding like the voice came from far away.
"His wing, can't you see it?" Dean said, frustrated, his mind now wondering the possible reasons and consequences of him being able to really see Cas, but his brother not.
"No." Sam also sounded worried, taking a breath to say something else when Dean interrupted him.
"Just gimme a minute, Sam. I need to concentrate on this." Dean said. In answer, there was silence from Sam and a slight increase in speed.
Dean turned back to Cas's injury, noticing that it some of the threads around it had started to fray even more. The second his attention was on one of those threads, it started to shiver, re-combining (?) and moving to it's proper place, though how Dean knew where it was supposed to be, he didn't know. It did seem to match the overall pattern that was being disrupted by the injury, though. Worry and adrenaline spiked as he noticed that the other threads and strings away from where the one he repaired seemed to be loosing cohesion. Not good.
"C'mon Cas, you can do this. Help me out here."
"No." Cas moaned. "You won't g-" Cas choked again before taking a breath and finishing with, "Raphiel."
"What? Cas, listen, you have to help me out here." Dean focused most of his attention on the wing, not healing it but at least making sure it didn't get worse.
"Won't let you, Raphiel." Cas managed, staring sightlessly forward.
"What?! Dammit, Cas, it's me, Dean! Cas!"
Sam's "Is he halucinating?" came simultaneously with Castiel's "Dean?"
"Yeah, Cas, it's Dean. Your wing is in shreds, man, you've got to help me out with it." Dean voice was fast as he tried to get through to Cas.
There was a pause as Cas gasped shallowly a couple times before managing an "Impossible. You must run, Dean. Raphiel is here, I can feel him healing me."
"I think that's me, Cas, not Raphiel. I'm healing you. I think I'd notice if that dick was around." Dean managed a tight grin.
Sam's worried, "Shit, Dean," came a couple seconds before Castiel's "What?" this time, but Dean could feel Cas's mind sharpening, focusing again on him and his injury instead of drifting and giving up. Dean also refocused onto Castiel's injury, giving it his all.
Dean lost track of time as he experimented with splitting his concentration on the larger pattern and the injury while simultaneously repairing individual, then larger and larger grouping of threads and strings, all at the same time. Dean no longer felt the rocking motion of his car, heard the breathing of Sam, or even Cas. He lost all sense of himself, focusing entirely on Cas, making sure that he would live, that he stopped that damn unraveling and that whatever was repaired stayed that way.
Dean started to hearing murmurs and voices near the end of the healing. He recognised the voices as friendly, so he paid it no mind. He was getting pretty good at this healing thing, and didn't want to get distracted. It took him awhile to realize that the voices were Sam and Cas, and that the car was stopped.
Coming back to himself was odd. He could split his attention a lot easier now, and used that to make sure that the injury, much smaller now, stayed stable as he opened his eyes. 'When did I close my eyes?' Dean wondered. Cas was saying something about wards, a safe house, as Sam eased them all out of the car, Dean staying glued to Cas's side. Dean blinked, as it seemed like he was seeing strings everywhere, now. The three of them seemed to be shuffling toward an old barn. The barn was glowing, with odd writing all over it. The strings
seemed to dance around and though the writing. He blinked a couple more times, and the strings faded.
"Dude, your safehouse glows. Not very sneeky." Dean grinned, looking over at Cas. Cas stared back at him, worriedly, and the grin fell.
"Most would not be able to see the glow, or the enochian wards?" Cas sounded slightly questioning about the wards, so Dean nodded. He could see them. Cas frowned, and Dean did too. He got the feeling that being able to see that was a bad sign.
"Cas, why can I see that? How can I even see your wings, and-" Dean motions toward the injured area, "and do all that?"
"We must get inside the wards." Cas looks away. Dean shares a glance with Sam as they move, seeing his worried frown looking at him too.
"It is possible that you are seeing how I see because of how we are connected," Cas starts, laying a hand on the door. "But that does not explain how we connected in the first place, or-" Cas cuts himself off.
Dean feels the energy in Cas flexing forward, and sucked in a breath in shock. He'd never felt the sheer power in Cas before, though he also noticed that that power flowed very carefully around the still slightly injured wing. The wards seemed to echo back that power, and Cas pulled open the door. "In," he demanded.
Sam moved though first, freezing just inside as Cas and Dean did an awkward shuffle to go through the door while keeping in contact and making sure Cas was though the door last. The inside of the barn looked nothing like the outside. It looked, oddly enough, like the inside of a large, one room church, minus the pews and alters, with the walls being made of a type of stone, instead of the wood they appeared to be on the outside. It reminded Dean of the Green Room Zachariah had, in look and feel. Excepting, of course, the writing in blood
and other, glowing substances. He only glanced at the writing before the meaning of the words started to jump out at him, so quickly looked away to the last thing of note within the room: the three angels standing against the wall that seemed to say healing-peace-sanctuary-rest. The three angels seemed to flex slightly, as Cas did, and the wards
did, and suddenly Dean knew their names, their purpose, and injuries. They were also glaring at his brother, and that just was not right.
"They are with me," Cas declared, unspoken order in his tone, power flexing, moving the glares to himself before their faces went blank, and the three seemed to flex again, differently this time, in acknowledgment.
Dean silently freaked out for a whole three seconds, before focusing more on healing the rest of Cas's injury again. It was almost done. "Brother," he heard and ignored, "Who is with you?"
"Dean and Sam Winchester" Cas answered.
"Did you free Michael from the pit?" another angel, Turiel, asked. Dean hated that he knew the angel's name without asking, or even looking at her.
"No." Cas said, the tone of his voice lowering from some emotion.
"Then who inhabits Dean Winchester's form?" Turiel asked again, blankly.
"Hey," Dean decided to stop ignoring the three angels, "No one "Inhabits" me, Okay? This is pure, Grade-A Dean Winchester" He wiggled his eyebrows a couple times and grinned charmingly in distraction, because Turiel was a pretty hot chick, if you ignored all the glowing and the wings.
Turiel continued to stare at him blankly. 'Not at all like Cas stares,' Dean thought randomly. Turiel asked "Why do you not acknowledge us?"
"He does not know how," Cas said. "Excuse us," he continued, before turning and speaking directly to Dean, "I believe-" Cas starts, "though I do not know how, but I believe that you have somehow received Ramiel's Grace."
Dean froze as Sam started forward toward them laying a hand on Cas's shoulder and staring at Dean. "He's Ramiel? I thought you had to say Yes for an angel-" Sam started.
"Not Ramiel," Cas cut in. "Grace is merely the energy of us. It would be better to say that Dean now has Ramiel's connection to Heaven." Even when answering Sam, Cas did not look away from Dean. Cas's wing was healed by now, but Dean still kept a hand on it. Through that hand, Dean felt Cas's Grace swirl and test him, feeling something within him now answer back weakly. What the hell?
"I'm all Graced up? Do I have superpowers? Am I an angel now?" Dean asked. His adrenaline was crashing, finally. How long had he been in the Impala, healing Cas? He wasn't stiff, it couldn't have been that long, but the fact that an angel-safehouse just happened to be nearby was a bit of a stretch. He was exhausted and energized at the same time, and seemed to be seeing the world at a distance, with things he thought he should be worried about not effecting him. The three angels were still off to the side, now speaking silently amongst themselves, though how he knew they were speaking, he couldn't say.
"I... am not sure. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Dean, you must tell me what happened with Ramiel."
TBC?
Author: SilverCrystalC
Famdom:Supernatural
Rating: PG?
Warnings: no beta.
Word Count: WIP
Summary:Dean always thought it would be pretty kick-ass to have angel powers. He just didn't think it would ever actually happen.
Notes: Wip. Maybe if put some of this down all the alternate versions of it will stop bothering me. In Media res, man. (also, second fic ever.) If anyone wants to give me tips on how to write, or tell me I'm doing something wrong, feel free. I need a beta. =(
The world was whited out. High pitched buzzing screamed in his ears. He couldn't feel his body. He couldn't feel anything. What was going on?
The high pitched sound lessened slightly, as if passing him by. He could feel pressure against his front, sort of burning. He could see eyes now, blue-blue-blue like Cas, but not Cas. He didn't know how long he stared at Not-Cas before he noticed that the eyes were moving. Not-Cas was closing his eyes. Why was he closing them so slow?
He could see more now. There was a window behind him, sunlight pouring through with dust motes hanging motionlessly within. Not-Cas had brown hair, laugh lines on his face. It wasn't just Not-Cas's eyes that were moving, it was all of Not-Cas. He was falling backwards, and down. But it was so slow. He couldn't have moved more than an inch the whole time Dean was standing there. Dean started to draw in a breath to speak, noticing how that, to, seemed to be slowed down, before his eyes caught on the Angel Blade sticking out of Not-Cas's neck, and the hand attached to it. Oh.
Memory returned the same instant that time started to catch up to him. Cas was just behind him, it was his blade in Not-Cas's, Remiel's, neck. Sammy was to his right, outside of the ritual circle Remiel had set up. Dean was right in between Remiel and Cas. He was trying to stop something, wasn't he? There was a trap, for Cas, for him and Sam, for Remiel? And there was a message now, he had to give Cas. It felt like it was on the tip of his tongue; it was important, for Cas.
The sound of Remiel's sword hitting the floor was like a gunshot. He turned to Cas, still in slow motion but speeding up all the time, just in time to see Cas finish stumbling back to the wall behind him. He had wings. All of him glowed, brighter every second, except for one part: a tearing blackness within his right wing. Dean had a flash memory of Remiel swinging his sword at what seemed to be thin air, right before Cas had shown up. Shit. That blackness did not look good, and it seemed to be growing.
"You must," Castiel suddenly coughs, blood dribbling down his chin. "You must leave here. The death of Ramiel will be felt by others." He slid slowly down the wall he had collapsed against, eyes closed.
"Damnit, Cas!" Dean felt like he teleported across the room as he was suddenly there, grabbing Castiel, keeping him upright while wondering how to rearrange limbs and wings to carry him. "Sam!" he called, staring at Castiel's injured wing while pulling his body away from the wall.
The damage to the wing seemed small, in comparison to their size, but Dean could see the way that the damage from the injury seemed to creep across Cas's '... what? Grace threads? Grace strings?' What his wings were made of. He could also feel the way that they were fraying and moving out of their proper pattern, like the sun's heat falling across his skin. It looked like a slower version of Ramiel as he died, and made his heart clench tight.
"Here, Dean." Sam was at Castiel's uninjured side, lifting an arm and swinging it across his shoulders. The uninjured wing seemed to phase into Sam slightly before it moved back and out of the way. Dean quickly shifted his hold to Castiel's injured side, but twisted around sideways, reaching for Castiel's injured wing even as they dragged him toward the abandoned house's exit. For a second, it was like trying to grab a spiderweb by the center without breaking it, before the wing suddenly firmed under his touch.
What appeared to be a solid glowing feathery appendage when seen from the other side of the room was millions upon millions of softly glowing strings when seen from up close. The patterns they made were beautiful. Dean folded the wing against Castiel's back before reaching out to the injured part, having some vague thought about pressure on bad injuries. Dean suddenly stumbled against something as they moved and heard Sam say something about his eyes, paying it no mind as his hand seemed to get sucked into the injured area. It was like completing a circuit. For a second that lasted an eternity, Dean was part of Cas. He could feel the energy flowing throughout his real form, folded like origami into Castiel's vessel. He could feel each individual strand, vibrating faster than should be possible to sense. He could feel Castiel's thoughts, worry worry worry for Sam and him, pain pain horror from the injury, acceptance of his own oncoming death, while under it all an utter sadness for too many things to name. He could also feel for himself the pain of the wing injury, bleeding grace, unraveling his, Cas's, form, tearing though him like death.
'No!' He refused to let Cas die, not after everything. At this thought, he felt himself separate from Cas, regaining his sense of self just in time to for his body to run into something. It was his car. His free hand seemed glued to Cas's injury, so he let go of Cas with his other to fish in his pocket for his keys. He quickly unlocked the back door they were leaning on before tossing the keys to Sam. Sam looked briefly shocked before snapping out of it and helping Dean move Cas into the back seat. Sam tore off to the drivers side after he saw that Dean had Cas mostly onto the seat, stating the car just as Dean crawled in after Cas, slamming the back door behind him. "Drive!" Dean growled, feeling his mind start to be sucked back into the injury he was still holding. The injury that seemed to be frozen in the middle of unraveling.
"What's wrong with him, Dean?" Sam interrupted, for a second sounding like the voice came from far away.
"His wing, can't you see it?" Dean said, frustrated, his mind now wondering the possible reasons and consequences of him being able to really see Cas, but his brother not.
"No." Sam also sounded worried, taking a breath to say something else when Dean interrupted him.
"Just gimme a minute, Sam. I need to concentrate on this." Dean said. In answer, there was silence from Sam and a slight increase in speed.
Dean turned back to Cas's injury, noticing that it some of the threads around it had started to fray even more. The second his attention was on one of those threads, it started to shiver, re-combining (?) and moving to it's proper place, though how Dean knew where it was supposed to be, he didn't know. It did seem to match the overall pattern that was being disrupted by the injury, though. Worry and adrenaline spiked as he noticed that the other threads and strings away from where the one he repaired seemed to be loosing cohesion. Not good.
"C'mon Cas, you can do this. Help me out here."
"No." Cas moaned. "You won't g-" Cas choked again before taking a breath and finishing with, "Raphiel."
"What? Cas, listen, you have to help me out here." Dean focused most of his attention on the wing, not healing it but at least making sure it didn't get worse.
"Won't let you, Raphiel." Cas managed, staring sightlessly forward.
"What?! Dammit, Cas, it's me, Dean! Cas!"
Sam's "Is he halucinating?" came simultaneously with Castiel's "Dean?"
"Yeah, Cas, it's Dean. Your wing is in shreds, man, you've got to help me out with it." Dean voice was fast as he tried to get through to Cas.
There was a pause as Cas gasped shallowly a couple times before managing an "Impossible. You must run, Dean. Raphiel is here, I can feel him healing me."
"I think that's me, Cas, not Raphiel. I'm healing you. I think I'd notice if that dick was around." Dean managed a tight grin.
Sam's worried, "Shit, Dean," came a couple seconds before Castiel's "What?" this time, but Dean could feel Cas's mind sharpening, focusing again on him and his injury instead of drifting and giving up. Dean also refocused onto Castiel's injury, giving it his all.
Dean lost track of time as he experimented with splitting his concentration on the larger pattern and the injury while simultaneously repairing individual, then larger and larger grouping of threads and strings, all at the same time. Dean no longer felt the rocking motion of his car, heard the breathing of Sam, or even Cas. He lost all sense of himself, focusing entirely on Cas, making sure that he would live, that he stopped that damn unraveling and that whatever was repaired stayed that way.
Dean started to hearing murmurs and voices near the end of the healing. He recognised the voices as friendly, so he paid it no mind. He was getting pretty good at this healing thing, and didn't want to get distracted. It took him awhile to realize that the voices were Sam and Cas, and that the car was stopped.
Coming back to himself was odd. He could split his attention a lot easier now, and used that to make sure that the injury, much smaller now, stayed stable as he opened his eyes. 'When did I close my eyes?' Dean wondered. Cas was saying something about wards, a safe house, as Sam eased them all out of the car, Dean staying glued to Cas's side. Dean blinked, as it seemed like he was seeing strings everywhere, now. The three of them seemed to be shuffling toward an old barn. The barn was glowing, with odd writing all over it. The strings
seemed to dance around and though the writing. He blinked a couple more times, and the strings faded.
"Dude, your safehouse glows. Not very sneeky." Dean grinned, looking over at Cas. Cas stared back at him, worriedly, and the grin fell.
"Most would not be able to see the glow, or the enochian wards?" Cas sounded slightly questioning about the wards, so Dean nodded. He could see them. Cas frowned, and Dean did too. He got the feeling that being able to see that was a bad sign.
"Cas, why can I see that? How can I even see your wings, and-" Dean motions toward the injured area, "and do all that?"
"We must get inside the wards." Cas looks away. Dean shares a glance with Sam as they move, seeing his worried frown looking at him too.
"It is possible that you are seeing how I see because of how we are connected," Cas starts, laying a hand on the door. "But that does not explain how we connected in the first place, or-" Cas cuts himself off.
Dean feels the energy in Cas flexing forward, and sucked in a breath in shock. He'd never felt the sheer power in Cas before, though he also noticed that that power flowed very carefully around the still slightly injured wing. The wards seemed to echo back that power, and Cas pulled open the door. "In," he demanded.
Sam moved though first, freezing just inside as Cas and Dean did an awkward shuffle to go through the door while keeping in contact and making sure Cas was though the door last. The inside of the barn looked nothing like the outside. It looked, oddly enough, like the inside of a large, one room church, minus the pews and alters, with the walls being made of a type of stone, instead of the wood they appeared to be on the outside. It reminded Dean of the Green Room Zachariah had, in look and feel. Excepting, of course, the writing in blood
and other, glowing substances. He only glanced at the writing before the meaning of the words started to jump out at him, so quickly looked away to the last thing of note within the room: the three angels standing against the wall that seemed to say healing-peace-sanctuary-rest. The three angels seemed to flex slightly, as Cas did, and the wards
did, and suddenly Dean knew their names, their purpose, and injuries. They were also glaring at his brother, and that just was not right.
"They are with me," Cas declared, unspoken order in his tone, power flexing, moving the glares to himself before their faces went blank, and the three seemed to flex again, differently this time, in acknowledgment.
Dean silently freaked out for a whole three seconds, before focusing more on healing the rest of Cas's injury again. It was almost done. "Brother," he heard and ignored, "Who is with you?"
"Dean and Sam Winchester" Cas answered.
"Did you free Michael from the pit?" another angel, Turiel, asked. Dean hated that he knew the angel's name without asking, or even looking at her.
"No." Cas said, the tone of his voice lowering from some emotion.
"Then who inhabits Dean Winchester's form?" Turiel asked again, blankly.
"Hey," Dean decided to stop ignoring the three angels, "No one "Inhabits" me, Okay? This is pure, Grade-A Dean Winchester" He wiggled his eyebrows a couple times and grinned charmingly in distraction, because Turiel was a pretty hot chick, if you ignored all the glowing and the wings.
Turiel continued to stare at him blankly. 'Not at all like Cas stares,' Dean thought randomly. Turiel asked "Why do you not acknowledge us?"
"He does not know how," Cas said. "Excuse us," he continued, before turning and speaking directly to Dean, "I believe-" Cas starts, "though I do not know how, but I believe that you have somehow received Ramiel's Grace."
Dean froze as Sam started forward toward them laying a hand on Cas's shoulder and staring at Dean. "He's Ramiel? I thought you had to say Yes for an angel-" Sam started.
"Not Ramiel," Cas cut in. "Grace is merely the energy of us. It would be better to say that Dean now has Ramiel's connection to Heaven." Even when answering Sam, Cas did not look away from Dean. Cas's wing was healed by now, but Dean still kept a hand on it. Through that hand, Dean felt Cas's Grace swirl and test him, feeling something within him now answer back weakly. What the hell?
"I'm all Graced up? Do I have superpowers? Am I an angel now?" Dean asked. His adrenaline was crashing, finally. How long had he been in the Impala, healing Cas? He wasn't stiff, it couldn't have been that long, but the fact that an angel-safehouse just happened to be nearby was a bit of a stretch. He was exhausted and energized at the same time, and seemed to be seeing the world at a distance, with things he thought he should be worried about not effecting him. The three angels were still off to the side, now speaking silently amongst themselves, though how he knew they were speaking, he couldn't say.
"I... am not sure. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Dean, you must tell me what happened with Ramiel."
TBC?