Entre (1/??) Team Heaven
Title: Entre
Author: Nalana/ Nightswhisper
Characters/Pairing(s): Pamela, Castiel, Dean, Sam, Zachariah ((possible future Pamela/Sam, Castiel/Dean))
Rating: chapter- PG-13
Warnings: none I can think of. Canon facts up to end of season 4, only speculation for Season 5
Summary: Caught between the oath she never thought she'd never take and loyalty to the morals of the person she once was, Pamela becomes torn between the internal match between heaven and human once more. Castiel, outcast, is similarly torn between what he used to be and what he is coming. The Winchesters try to steer this crazy ride. And Zachariah has his own game plan. This time, heaven's playing for keeps.
Word Count: 1675
Disclaimer: I don't own. Sadly.
A/N: This fic takes advantage of the 'what if character switched sides/au posibilites that were mentioned in the beginning.
Even for a blind person, light existed. It caused a shift in the atmosphere when natural, and left just a hint of buzzing when artificial. But t here was no light here. There was no touch, no sensation. There wasn’t even a pull of gravity or the buoyancy of floating. There was simply the knowledge of existing.
Pamela was terrified. She had thought for sure that death would be…okay, she wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. But she hadn’t thought it would be this. It was an endless wait. She couldn’t know how long she had been here. It may have been a few minutes. It could be a few days, or even months. But she did have some idea that it wasn’t the centuries it felt like.
Suddenly the void ended. The warmth of light surrounded her. She felt rooted, grounded. She could sense her body forming into an actual figure. She could FEEL. Prickling. Tingling. Weighted. She could SMELL. Dust, old paint, wood. She could touch. Marble that was chilly and smooth, upholstery that was warm, rough, and slightly dusty at her fingertips. Yet for all the sensation returned to her, she could not see.
“You’re not blind here.” She heard a voice with hidden sarcasm leaking through behind her.
She spun around her throbbing with wonder. This man was not right. He didn’t have the solidity of a human. He didn’t radiate sorrow, rage, or confusion like a spirit. But he didn’t prick like the demonic. No. This was different. IT was foreboding, dizzying. Its very existence was raw energy. It left her nostrils and throat burning with sweetness. IT felt like…oh no.
“What do you want, wing man?” She turned around, her arms crossed across her chest.
“Oh come now, Pamela. There’s no need to be harsh. Now why don’t you take a deep breath and open your eyes, hmm? You’ll find they’re perfectly fine. You just don’t want to see me.”
“I’ll pass.” She snorted.
“Really?” That’s a shame. I really would like to continue talking with you. Otherwise I’ll have to put you right back into that place.”
Pamela froze. She hated that plane of existence. She was absolutely in no hurry to deal with Heaven or its goons either. They were the entire reason why she had almost wished for hell as she slipped away. How was she to know there was a third option waiting for her?
“I’m listening.” She hesitated.
“I suppose that will have to do for a start. Ms. Barnes, I’d like to make you a deal.”
Dean felt stuck, like e had rolled into a springtime ditch. Every move they made couldn’t break the suction. But they kept trying to wriggle free none-the-less.
They had been playing cat and mouse with the angels for the past four months. Zachariah was one stubborn son of a bitch. In between running away and talking down him and Sammy could barely keep track of Lucifer’s doing let alone figure out what to do about the whole apocalypse thing. Then there was Cas, who had miraculously scrapped through and was now living a half-life.
The renegade angel was on his own quest; one he didn’t feel compelled to share with them. Devoid of most of his former power, he would pop in and out from time to time on them. He’s assist, leave hints, or simply recoup. But he’d always leave as soon as he was finished. Sometimes, if Castiel couldn’t come himself, he’d send Anna in his place. HE had tucked her away before Lucifer’s rising, but she had fought her way out. The two had come to terms with one another after Cas’ demotion. But he had been with the Winchesters for over two weeks this time. Dean’s skin was crawling.
It didn’t help that they hadn’t had Zachariah or one of his roadblocks turn up in quite a while. And it sure as hell wasn’t comforting to hear Anna say that the angels had been muttering a lot lately but she was unable to hear them clearly. Something was boiling below the surface, and it was causing the elder Winchester to itch with that old hunting urge.
“Hey, Dean.” Sam’s voice nearly made him jump. “I may have something. Doesn’t look like much, but there’s been a series of arsons started by people who were staff or frequent users all with no previous records or motivation for their acts.”
“So there’s a spook who thinks R.I.F. is a bunch of bull?” Dean asked.
“All these places had ancient documents donated to them within the past few months that were all headed to professional archiving.” Sam added.
Dean rolled off his bed and onto his feet. “Good enough for me. Let’s go.”
“Since when do angels bargain? I thought you just flung orders and took what you want.” She spat with vengeance. “At least demons will occasionally consider an eye for an eye.” The pun was not lost on her.
“You’ll find there’s a lot you don’t know, Pamela.” Zachariah’s tone was chided. “Regardless, we’d like to illuminate you a little.”
Zachariah’s steps brought him closer to the former psychic. “You’re a pretty powerful kid. Sure you block yourself up a little; you’re not a bad empathy for one if you try. But angels aren’t as fickle as you’d paint us. We don’t come when we’re called like demons, we don’t have to. But you…”
Zachariah began circling her. Pamela’s instincts were on fire. She wanted to run. She wanted to drop kick him. She had to move. But she stayed in place. She was immobile.
“You managed to command our very own little Castiel to you. He is a bit weak, but it’s still impressive. Then, “ He laughed, “You ripped two souls out of their bodies. That takes some juice.”
“Yea, well give me a gold star.” She didn’t like his ramblings. Still, she had to smile at herself. She was good.
“Oh.” Zachariah stopped in front of her. He couldn’t breath. Instead he released a wave of his tinged energy towards her face, dizzying her. “I’m going to give you much more than that.”
“You see, we have a little job for you.” He smirked. “There’s something we want. Two things, actually. You can get them easier than we can.”
“And that would be?”
“The fallen, Castiel. He’s managed to slip us. You can get to him. You know the two he follows, he has guilt over your incident. And there’s a little item we wouldn’t mind having. The boys should be discovering it about now. We’d simply love to have it.”
Pamela paused. Sure she didn’t like this war the Winchesters had brought her into. But they were honest men. Even Sam and that horrible power she would never forget was, though misguided, intended good. They hadn’t fought for gain. They pressed on for the protection of others. She was fairly certain that Zachariah was not for their same goal. But if there were the slightest chance…no, She wouldn’t think about that. Angels could see too much. Not here, not now.
“And what am I supposed to do? I'm dead. Why would I even want to do this?”
“You’re dead-for now. Luckily the boys didn’t burn you. We can touch up your old self; slip you into it like a glove. You’ll still be gone. It’s just a layer, but it will work. As to why-that’s simple. You’ll do it for the world and for yourself.”
Zachariah saw the flicker of hope. HE stood back, a grin plastered on his face.
‘You bring us Castiel and you resume living. You bring us the item and we’ll postpone our plans for paradise-make it slow, seem natural.”
She was ready to protest when he continued. “You know we’ll win. How we treat our victory is up to you.”
Ash covered him from head to toe. HE hacked violently against the smoke that had not completely left his lungs. Sam didn’t sound or look better. Even Castiel, who was standing before them clutching the precious documents they had nearly been burned alive for looked a little singed.
“You better find frickin’ gold in that, Sammy. Because there’s no way that piece of paper could be worth all this.” Dean said through clasped teeth, feeling the pounding in his head start all over again.
“It’s better than gold, Dean.” Castiel’s rough voice made him alert. The angel had been out of sorts, quiet. He had been acting unlike himself and no matter how Dean pushed; he couldn’t get an answer out of him.
Even tonight the angel had barely lingered when Sam and Dean pulled him towards the Impala. Because, damn it, if he could stick around to sulk he could help out. And he had helped, Dean supposed. That falling beam met the floor instead of his head. But he had also gotten the papers out leaving the exorcising of the demon to the brothers as the library burned around them. Dean twitched internally. He hoped Cas would break out of what ever had gotten him down quickly because this was getting old.
Sam didn’t say anything. HE was just about as irritated as his brother was. Instead he held out his hand to take the document. His eyebrows knotted immediately.
“What is it?” Dean walked behind his brother. ON the yellowed parchment was an inked illustration of two hands cupping an invisible but glowing object. Around the rays of light were words in a forgotten tongue-words Castiel spoke then with ease.
“Translation?” Dean fumed.
“IT has rhythm… a rhyme? Poem? Riddle?” Sam guessed.
“Close. Try a key. “ A very feminine voice called out behind them. The brothers spun, their heads already in battle mode.
“Whoa! Don’t be so quick to draw there! It’s me!” The woman, clad in jeans and leather stepped out of the shadows.
“Pamela?” Sam gasped.
“Hey there grumpy.” The woman smirked, crossing her arms and shifting her weight.
Sam sputtered. Castiel glared. Dean raised his gun.
Click.
Also, a series of banners through the lyrics of the song, which I used as an outline for the story. So, possible spoilers for the rest of the story. The first two are relevant to this chapter.
Thirteen in total, in chronological order to story. All PG-13.
Author: Nalana/ Nightswhisper
Characters/Pairing(s): Pamela, Castiel, Dean, Sam, Zachariah ((possible future Pamela/Sam, Castiel/Dean))
Rating: chapter- PG-13
Warnings: none I can think of. Canon facts up to end of season 4, only speculation for Season 5
Summary: Caught between the oath she never thought she'd never take and loyalty to the morals of the person she once was, Pamela becomes torn between the internal match between heaven and human once more. Castiel, outcast, is similarly torn between what he used to be and what he is coming. The Winchesters try to steer this crazy ride. And Zachariah has his own game plan. This time, heaven's playing for keeps.
Word Count: 1675
Disclaimer: I don't own. Sadly.
A/N: This fic takes advantage of the 'what if character switched sides/au posibilites that were mentioned in the beginning.
Even for a blind person, light existed. It caused a shift in the atmosphere when natural, and left just a hint of buzzing when artificial. But t here was no light here. There was no touch, no sensation. There wasn’t even a pull of gravity or the buoyancy of floating. There was simply the knowledge of existing.
Pamela was terrified. She had thought for sure that death would be…okay, she wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. But she hadn’t thought it would be this. It was an endless wait. She couldn’t know how long she had been here. It may have been a few minutes. It could be a few days, or even months. But she did have some idea that it wasn’t the centuries it felt like.
Suddenly the void ended. The warmth of light surrounded her. She felt rooted, grounded. She could sense her body forming into an actual figure. She could FEEL. Prickling. Tingling. Weighted. She could SMELL. Dust, old paint, wood. She could touch. Marble that was chilly and smooth, upholstery that was warm, rough, and slightly dusty at her fingertips. Yet for all the sensation returned to her, she could not see.
“You’re not blind here.” She heard a voice with hidden sarcasm leaking through behind her.
She spun around her throbbing with wonder. This man was not right. He didn’t have the solidity of a human. He didn’t radiate sorrow, rage, or confusion like a spirit. But he didn’t prick like the demonic. No. This was different. IT was foreboding, dizzying. Its very existence was raw energy. It left her nostrils and throat burning with sweetness. IT felt like…oh no.
“What do you want, wing man?” She turned around, her arms crossed across her chest.
“Oh come now, Pamela. There’s no need to be harsh. Now why don’t you take a deep breath and open your eyes, hmm? You’ll find they’re perfectly fine. You just don’t want to see me.”
“I’ll pass.” She snorted.
“Really?” That’s a shame. I really would like to continue talking with you. Otherwise I’ll have to put you right back into that place.”
Pamela froze. She hated that plane of existence. She was absolutely in no hurry to deal with Heaven or its goons either. They were the entire reason why she had almost wished for hell as she slipped away. How was she to know there was a third option waiting for her?
“I’m listening.” She hesitated.
“I suppose that will have to do for a start. Ms. Barnes, I’d like to make you a deal.”
Dean felt stuck, like e had rolled into a springtime ditch. Every move they made couldn’t break the suction. But they kept trying to wriggle free none-the-less.
They had been playing cat and mouse with the angels for the past four months. Zachariah was one stubborn son of a bitch. In between running away and talking down him and Sammy could barely keep track of Lucifer’s doing let alone figure out what to do about the whole apocalypse thing. Then there was Cas, who had miraculously scrapped through and was now living a half-life.
The renegade angel was on his own quest; one he didn’t feel compelled to share with them. Devoid of most of his former power, he would pop in and out from time to time on them. He’s assist, leave hints, or simply recoup. But he’d always leave as soon as he was finished. Sometimes, if Castiel couldn’t come himself, he’d send Anna in his place. HE had tucked her away before Lucifer’s rising, but she had fought her way out. The two had come to terms with one another after Cas’ demotion. But he had been with the Winchesters for over two weeks this time. Dean’s skin was crawling.
It didn’t help that they hadn’t had Zachariah or one of his roadblocks turn up in quite a while. And it sure as hell wasn’t comforting to hear Anna say that the angels had been muttering a lot lately but she was unable to hear them clearly. Something was boiling below the surface, and it was causing the elder Winchester to itch with that old hunting urge.
“Hey, Dean.” Sam’s voice nearly made him jump. “I may have something. Doesn’t look like much, but there’s been a series of arsons started by people who were staff or frequent users all with no previous records or motivation for their acts.”
“So there’s a spook who thinks R.I.F. is a bunch of bull?” Dean asked.
“All these places had ancient documents donated to them within the past few months that were all headed to professional archiving.” Sam added.
Dean rolled off his bed and onto his feet. “Good enough for me. Let’s go.”
“Since when do angels bargain? I thought you just flung orders and took what you want.” She spat with vengeance. “At least demons will occasionally consider an eye for an eye.” The pun was not lost on her.
“You’ll find there’s a lot you don’t know, Pamela.” Zachariah’s tone was chided. “Regardless, we’d like to illuminate you a little.”
Zachariah’s steps brought him closer to the former psychic. “You’re a pretty powerful kid. Sure you block yourself up a little; you’re not a bad empathy for one if you try. But angels aren’t as fickle as you’d paint us. We don’t come when we’re called like demons, we don’t have to. But you…”
Zachariah began circling her. Pamela’s instincts were on fire. She wanted to run. She wanted to drop kick him. She had to move. But she stayed in place. She was immobile.
“You managed to command our very own little Castiel to you. He is a bit weak, but it’s still impressive. Then, “ He laughed, “You ripped two souls out of their bodies. That takes some juice.”
“Yea, well give me a gold star.” She didn’t like his ramblings. Still, she had to smile at herself. She was good.
“Oh.” Zachariah stopped in front of her. He couldn’t breath. Instead he released a wave of his tinged energy towards her face, dizzying her. “I’m going to give you much more than that.”
“You see, we have a little job for you.” He smirked. “There’s something we want. Two things, actually. You can get them easier than we can.”
“And that would be?”
“The fallen, Castiel. He’s managed to slip us. You can get to him. You know the two he follows, he has guilt over your incident. And there’s a little item we wouldn’t mind having. The boys should be discovering it about now. We’d simply love to have it.”
Pamela paused. Sure she didn’t like this war the Winchesters had brought her into. But they were honest men. Even Sam and that horrible power she would never forget was, though misguided, intended good. They hadn’t fought for gain. They pressed on for the protection of others. She was fairly certain that Zachariah was not for their same goal. But if there were the slightest chance…no, She wouldn’t think about that. Angels could see too much. Not here, not now.
“And what am I supposed to do? I'm dead. Why would I even want to do this?”
“You’re dead-for now. Luckily the boys didn’t burn you. We can touch up your old self; slip you into it like a glove. You’ll still be gone. It’s just a layer, but it will work. As to why-that’s simple. You’ll do it for the world and for yourself.”
Zachariah saw the flicker of hope. HE stood back, a grin plastered on his face.
‘You bring us Castiel and you resume living. You bring us the item and we’ll postpone our plans for paradise-make it slow, seem natural.”
She was ready to protest when he continued. “You know we’ll win. How we treat our victory is up to you.”
Ash covered him from head to toe. HE hacked violently against the smoke that had not completely left his lungs. Sam didn’t sound or look better. Even Castiel, who was standing before them clutching the precious documents they had nearly been burned alive for looked a little singed.
“You better find frickin’ gold in that, Sammy. Because there’s no way that piece of paper could be worth all this.” Dean said through clasped teeth, feeling the pounding in his head start all over again.
“It’s better than gold, Dean.” Castiel’s rough voice made him alert. The angel had been out of sorts, quiet. He had been acting unlike himself and no matter how Dean pushed; he couldn’t get an answer out of him.
Even tonight the angel had barely lingered when Sam and Dean pulled him towards the Impala. Because, damn it, if he could stick around to sulk he could help out. And he had helped, Dean supposed. That falling beam met the floor instead of his head. But he had also gotten the papers out leaving the exorcising of the demon to the brothers as the library burned around them. Dean twitched internally. He hoped Cas would break out of what ever had gotten him down quickly because this was getting old.
Sam didn’t say anything. HE was just about as irritated as his brother was. Instead he held out his hand to take the document. His eyebrows knotted immediately.
“What is it?” Dean walked behind his brother. ON the yellowed parchment was an inked illustration of two hands cupping an invisible but glowing object. Around the rays of light were words in a forgotten tongue-words Castiel spoke then with ease.
“Translation?” Dean fumed.
“IT has rhythm… a rhyme? Poem? Riddle?” Sam guessed.
“Close. Try a key. “ A very feminine voice called out behind them. The brothers spun, their heads already in battle mode.
“Whoa! Don’t be so quick to draw there! It’s me!” The woman, clad in jeans and leather stepped out of the shadows.
“Pamela?” Sam gasped.
“Hey there grumpy.” The woman smirked, crossing her arms and shifting her weight.
Sam sputtered. Castiel glared. Dean raised his gun.
Click.
Also, a series of banners through the lyrics of the song, which I used as an outline for the story. So, possible spoilers for the rest of the story. The first two are relevant to this chapter.
Thirteen in total, in chronological order to story. All PG-13.