!!!-CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS-!!! SPN & Other Character Prompting Post //April 1st - April 15th
This is a post for ANY AND ALL FICTIONAL CHARACTERS, this includes pairings such as Sam/Dean, Dean/Cas, Anna/Jo, Bobby/Ellen, Clay/Tom, Priestly/Alec etc, etc. All prompts with pairings of people under the age of 18 should be posted to the underage section.
A few reminders:
1. Use your subject lines! Please start with either REQUEST or FILLED also ( Read more... )
A few reminders:
1. Use your subject lines! Please start with either REQUEST or FILLED also ( Read more... )
"I know you can hear him," Lucifer comments mildly to Castiel, as Garth continues to speak. "Usually, you'd be threatening my masculinity with your laughter and climbing your way back up to him right about now."
Castiel shrugs, staring up at the ceiling. "There is no point in doing so."
Still, Castiel and Lucifer listen as Garth tells Castiel of a case in Michigan eight years ago. A real freak of a shapeshifter was preying on twins; it would kill one and hang around the other for a couple of days, pretending just for the fun of it. While cornering of the pairs of suspects at gunpoint, Garth had noticed how of the twins had glanced quickly at her sister, before starting to cry at the sight of the gun as well. He'd taken the shot.
At the local high school, Brandon hadn't been so lucky.
"Turns out there were two shifters," Garth explains. "I killed both of them, but not before one got Brandon.
I was pissed as hell for ages, but I told myself it wasn't my fault. Unexpected things happen. But telling yourself that is hard enough when it's just you. When Brandon's ghost showed up, I didn't know what to think anymore. He wouldn't leave me alone; he'd just follow me around everywhere, telling me it was my fault he was dead. The guy started filling in my crosswords with really hateful stuff, that's how far past crazytown he'd gone.
But I still believed him," Garth sighs. "And I started hating myself, and working riskier cases. I didn't think he'd noticed, until I was bleeding out in an old house where a skinwalker had set up camp. I'd even made peace with death, you know?
Then, and I don't even know how he'd known where I was, but I woke up the next day in a hospital. The nurses said that they'd gotten a call from my cellphone. Then I got back to the motel, and it was kind of obvious that Brandon had saved my ass. The entire motel and my car was on fire. Basically, anything that could have tied Brandon to me was gone."
Garth tightens his grip on Castiel's hands slightly. "God, even as a vengeful spirit he was bad-ass," he laughs. "I'm not saying we should all go out on kamikaze trips, but there's a reason why I still hunt alone. The blame never goes away; you just have to figure out what to do with what you have left.
I mean, Castiel, you can't just stay here forever. No one's judging you but you, and that's why you can't move on. If you really feel that guilty, go out and help people, and see if that makes you feel any better. Even if doesn't, at least you're helping them."
Garth isn't quite sure if this lack of a reaction is good or bad. On the plus side, he hasn't been punched out by an angel. On the down side, Castiel's still dead to the world.
"Castiel?"
---
"Look," Lucifer scowls, "the guy's just gone and bared his life's story to you. Just go stare at him before he keeps going on."
Castiel raises an eyebrow. "You would let me go that easily?"
"I'll still be here, brother," Lucifer says, trying for menacing. It doesn't seem to have the intended effect, however. Castiel just stares at him, searchingly, before nodding and slowly surfacing from his trance.
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"Don't scare me like that," he mutters. "You catch any of what I said?"
"Yes," Castiel responds, reaching back for the hand that Garth has withdrawn. "I do not know how useful I can be with Lucifer still inside. But I will try," he amends, squeezing Garth's hands solemnly. "I have much to atone for."
Garth smiles widely at Castiel. "That's a good first step!" He looks down at his hands and Castiel's, then back at Castiel's quizzical expression. Garth sighs, inwardly. "This is usually when we hug, Castiel."
"Oh," Castiel says, surprised. "Are we having a moment?"
Garth chokes. "What?"
"Lucifer says that we're having a moment. A Lifetime moment that makes him want to blind himself, if it were possible for his wounds to not heal."
Garth laughs, and practically tackles Castiel into a hug. "Man, I'd hug him too for saying that."
Castiel's arms circle around him, patting Garth's back awkwardly. It is his first true hug with a friend, and Castiel likes how comfortable it is. His memories as Emmanuel become clearer.
It's then that Garth gets his genius idea. "Speaking of Lifetime moments, I was thinking we should read Twilight. I'll be Edward, and Mr. Fizzles can be Bella."
Castiel cocks his head slightly, as if listening to something that Garth can't hear.
"What's up?"
"Lucifer is screaming."
"Score."
---
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Oh, good god. Garth's is a cruel genius :D. Fantastic series of updates here! Loving all the backstory on Garth.
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"Demons," he hisses, and then Castiel feels their presence. They slide into the hospital, some prowling through the main areas of the building, while others begin possessing bodies, jumping from one to another, looking for information. Looking for Castiel.
"Garth, wake up!" Castiel shakes Garth, and the hunter snaps awake.
"Castiel? What's going on?"
"Demons," Castiel replies. "Many of them. We need to go." His grip around Garth tightens as Lucifer's gaze flicks to the hunter. The devil pulls a face when he sees Mr. Fizzles, secure on Garth's hand.
"We are not leaving them here," Castiel interrupts Lucifer, before he even speaks.
"Woah," Garth protests, as Castiel manhandles him out of the bed, and tosses Garth's bag to him. "Are you, you know, okay to leave? How many demons are we talking here?"
Lucifer hums, cocking his head to one side. "That high school wrestler makes 23, doesn't it, Castiel?"
"24," Castiel corrects, as he senses another demon barreling into the hospital, exactly two floors down.
"Damn," Garth mutters, rifling around in his bag for his shotgun and rock salt shells. "Any time to draw devil's traps?" He can tell by Castiel's set jaw, though, that none of his normal weapons are going to work against so many demons.
Lucifer snaps his attention from locating the demons back to Castiel. His smile stretches, eyes darkening. "There is something you can do, brother." His grace curls around Castiel's, probing but not piercing. "You would only need a tiny fraction of my power to wipe them all out."
Castiel frowns at Lucifer. "Why would you offer it to me?"
"It's mutually beneficial," Lucifer states, fixing an earnest gaze at Castiel. They stare at each other, Castiel warily, but both can feel the demons approaching. They hear Garth's yelp as he slams the door back shut. The demons have reached the psych ward.
"Stay behind me," Castiel orders, as he and Garth enter the hallway. The stench of sulfur preempts the demons, and Garth's hands tighten on his shotgun. He mentally curses himself for not pulling Mr. Fizzles off of his hand before he had the chance, as the first demon rounds the corner, and Garth fires.
Castiel starts reciting an exorcism, as Garth continues shooting and more demons pour into the hallway. Soon enough, the hallway is filled with demons, prowling closer and surrounding Castiel and Garth on both ends. Garth pushes himself back-to-back with Castiel, dropping his empty shotgun and reaching for his holy water. He throws it as a demon lunges towards him, and Castiel yells for Garth to shut his eyes.
Garth's eyes slam shut right before white light blazes around him. He uses Mr. Fizzles to cover his eyes, trying to block out the painful brightness searing across the back of his eyelids. He can barely hear the hisses and screams of the dying demons above the shrill, ringing sounds. The high-pitched whine builds, and Garth swears that he can hear two overlapping frequencies, before there's a final pulse of bright light and pulsing heat. It rushes through and around him, and then the noise cuts off.
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Mindless of the hallway littered with slumped bodies, Castiel stands in front of Garth, his gaze fixed on the hunter. "Garth?" He asks, gently.
"Uh, yeah," Garth breathes, taking in the scene. "That was amazing, Castiel!"
Castiel's shoulders slump in relief. "I am glad to see that you're well."
Garth grins, standing shakily. "Me too, buddy. What'd you do, exactly?"
"I unleashed my grace to burn out the demons," Castiel replies. He hesitates for a moment, before adding: "I was concerned for you, because I felt Lucifer's grace leave mine as I was doing so. I was afraid that he would try to take you as a vessel."
"Woah, hang on," Garth babbles. "Lucifer's real? Where's he now?" He reaches for his holy water, eyes darting around the hallway.
Castiel frowns, pressing his hand against his chest. "As he was leaving, I pushed him back in..." The angel trails off in a tone that Garth knows is never, ever good.
"He's not here." Castiel's eyes widen, frantically, and Garth can see a bright ring circling the angel's blue irises. "But I felt him," he says, voice shaking. "He couldn't have left, not completely --" Castiel punches the wall, and keeps his fist embedded in the cinderblock. "This is all my fault."
Garth frowns, reaching over to clasp Castiel's shoulder.
Castiel, Mr. Fizzles says.
Castiel growls. "Not now, Garth."
"Uh," Garth stutters, "I didn't say that."
Castiel turns his head to meet Garth's equally shocked gaze. They then look down at the sock puppet that Garth has clapped on Castiel's shoulder.
Fuck my life, Lucifer hisses, his voice a pitch-perfect match for Mr. Fizzles'.
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And, ohnoes, Mr Fizzles is now evil like Mr Hat! Or perhaps he'll get Uncle Arnie to fry them with his Hex Vision... Sock puppets: ultimately, ALWAYS evil :D.
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Garth isn't quite sure how this is his life. He'd had the best of intentions, taking care of Castiel and trying to help him manage his hallucinations of Lucifer. Lucifer, who was apparently real, and stuck inside Castiel's body until he'd ridden out the shockwave of Castiel's grace during the exorcism. Except, he hadn't been able to move far, especially with all the humans in the near vicinity either dead or possessed. Which, apparently, left only one option.
Mr. Fizzles. Garth's awesome puppet, lovingly crafted from his lucky pair of socks (once he'd lost the other one). Mr. Fizzles, who wasn't actually sentient, and couldn't have said yes or no either way.
Mr. Fizzles, whom Castiel had promptly drawn Enochian binding sigils on with the angel's own blood. Mr. Fizzles, who was now Lucifer's vessel.
Lucifer is fuming silently, now, as Castiel zaps the three of them through a series of urban cities before deeming their trail cold enough to stop in a wheat field in Kansas.
Castiel refuses to let go of Mr. Fizzles, maintaining that the binding magic is stronger if his grace is in direct contact with Lucifer's. To Garth, it means that he's going to be holding Castiel's hand for the foreseeable future, unless they can get rid of Lucifer.
"Where are you?" Castiel prompts, as Garth dials Dean and hands his cellphone over to the angel.
The next second, Garth's in a dingy motel, right in front of Dean Winchester. Well, Castiel's right in front of Dean, which means that Garth gets a close-up view of the weirdest, most intense, and somewhat violating stare he's ever seen two people share.
"Cas," Dean breathes out, and Garth watches as his hands make an aborted movement towards Castiel before bunching at his sides.
"Uh, hey, Garth." Garth turns to see Sam sitting at the small table, looking both confused and sympathetic.
Dean's eyes flick over to Garth, as if just noticing him, and he quickly steps out of the personal bubble that he's just been sharing with Castiel. "Hey, Garth," he greets, "what're you guys doing here?"
The last word falls flat, when Dean's gaze lands on Mr. Fizzles. Lucifer. To be honest, Garth is a bit terrified to admit the latter. Garth is guessing it's more of the hand-holding than the puppet that Dean finds offensive, and he automatically tries to tug his hand out of Castiel's. The angel's grip tightens, though, and Dean's eyes narrow.
"You wanna tell me what's going on?"
Castiel and Garth share a look, which Garth is pretty sure makes Dean bristle a bit more.
"Um, this is Lucifer." Garth holds up his and Castiel's joined hands, to point at the sock puppet in between them. Dean's reaction isn't all that better with this news.
Hello, everyone, Lucifer growls, because apparently he won't let being a sock puppet deter him from acting as terrifying as he can. Hello, Sam.
Dean looks constipated, and Sam gapes at Mr. Fizzles, and then back to Garth. "Your mouth didn't move."
I've missed you so very much, Lucifer purrs, although it comes out as more of a squeak.
Sam drops his head to the table. Garth watches as his shoulders start shaking, and sees Dean glaring at him and Castiel before approaching his brother. "Sam?"
And then Sam bursts out laughing.
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Once Dean decides that the only danger Sam is in is death by laughter, he orders celebratory pie and pizza. He's not exactly certain they should be celebrating the fact that Lucifer's alive and in the same room, but on the upside, he's got his brother, Castiel, and one pretty decent hunter in here too. Plus, any time is pie time.
Garth and Castiel have moved to sit on Dean's bed, Lucifer lying face-up in between them. Dean is leaning against the wall closest to the bed and Castiel's side, inhaling a fresh slice of apple pie and watching Castiel pick at the toppings on his pizza. Sam and Garth have split the rest of the pizza, and seem to having a contest to see who can take the biggest bite.
All the while, they listen to Lucifer as he rage-squeaks that this is all Death's fault. Dean is furious to learn that Death was the one who purposefully pulled Lucifer out of the Cage while retrieving Sam's soul. The bastard had probably known even then that Purgatory would be opened some way or another, and the Leviathan unleashed.
That's Death's endgame, as Lucifer tells them. God had promised Death the Leviathan eons ago, but gotten overly sentimental when the time came to destroy them. Death's let them marinade in Purgatory until now, and he's very hungry and eager to collect.
"So he's brought you back to kill them," Sam says, sounding hopeful.
All things in due time, Lucifer replies. It took the might of our Father and all his archangels to force those monsters in to Purgatory. As such, I wouldn't mind having some more power.
Castiel looks thoughtful, and Dean's stomach lurches.
"Hell no," he spits. "Power's what got us in this mess in the first place. No one in this room is sucking up any souls, ever again." He looks pointedly at Castiel, whose stare grows frosty.
"I am capable of learning from my mistakes, Dean," he snaps.
Oh, brother, Lucifer laughs. Not quite at the angry sex stage yet? All this unresolved sexual tension is worse than that cuddling.
Garth would like to emphasize how creepy this is, coming from Mr. Fizzles.
"Cuddling?" Dean demands.
Oh, yes, Lucifer taunts. The patient beds were pretty small, and you know what they say about lonely nights.
Caveman-Dean is frightening to see, and Garth looks at Castiel or Sam for help. Castiel is still staring at Lucifer as if hoping that the sheer force of his gaze will set the devil on fire, so Garth is thankful when Sam cuts in.
"Stop, guys. Lucifer, I know you're only telling us this because you want us to do something. What is it?"
Garth gapes at Sam. "The hell is it with you guys and demons?"
Sam's right, Lucifer sighs. I do need something from you, specifically. I need whatever Gabriel gave you that night at The Elysian Fields.
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"Even if we had it," Sam hedges, "why do you need it?"
Because my brother is all-too-well versed in the art of escaping death. The thought hadn't occurred to me until I found myself in this disgusting excuse of a vessel. I believe that Gabriel stored the vital elements of his grace in an innocuous, inanimate object. Since you boys were the last to see him, I assume that you would know have an idea about what that is.
Dean, meanwhile, has been studying Sam. "Dude, you actually kept it?"
Sam scowls. "He died - well, pretended to - for us, Dean. He did a lot of crappy things to us, but he came through in the end. I thought the least we could do was honor his memory."
So do you have it, Lucifer says, proudly. That's my genius, Sammy.
Sam flips Lucifer off as he starts pulling undershirts out of his duffel. He pulls out a wad, unwrapping the shirts layer by layer, until he pulls out a DVD in the final one. Garth hears Lucifer inhale, sharply.
Sam hesitates, looking at Dean, then Castiel. "This isn't going to hurt you, right, Cas?"
"It won't," Castiel promises.
Castiel just needs to spark the process, Lucifer explains. Our own grace takes over from there.
Castiel reaches for the disc, turning it gently over in his available hand. "Close your eyes," he commands.
The light is as piercing as before, and Garth buries his face in the crook of his elbow. There are freaking klaxon sirens ringing in his ears, but the sound is slightly muted compared to the time in the hospital. Garth thanks Castiel silently for muffling the noise, and waits in apprehension for the lights to fade.
When he feels a touch to his shoulder, Garth looks up. A short figure, sitting on the tabletop, smirks at them. "Hey guys, what took you so long?"
---
It's actually very difficult, Garth discovers, to fill up bottles with Borax with only one hand. He's got a row of flasks lined up between his legs, his left arm hugging the jug of borax and pouring the cleaning solution in, while his right arm is raised so Lucifer can speak with Gabriel and Castiel at eye level. And by speak, Garth means, to have a silent, angel conversation, that's only interrupted every once in a while by the sound of Gabriel's moans as eats his way through the entire supply at the local candy store.
Garth seriously doesn't know how this is his life.
When everything's been loaded up, Gabriel turns to Garth, and waggles his fingers at him. "Time to tag-team out, bro."
"What?"
Gabriel rolls his eyes. "You're gonna be smack-dab in the middle of this boss battle if you stay attached to my brothers."
But I like Garth, Lucifer protests. Garth has forcibly remind himself that this not a compliment, coming from the devil.
"No, it's okay," he says. "I guess I'd just get in the way, huh."
"You have already done much." Castiel smiles at Garth, patting the hunter's shoulder. "And Dean and Sam always attract more trouble than expected."
Garth laughs. "All right. Take care of Mr. Fizzles for me." Gabriel snaps his fingers, and Garth's right hand is now free. He looks at the two angels, hands clasped over a bloody sock, and grins.
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Dean claps his hand on Castiel's shoulder, glancing briefly at Mr. Fizzles and Gabriel before fixing Castiel with a hard stare. "No hero moves," he orders. "Kill Dick and come back."
"To me," Gabriel sing-songs, and Dean flips the archangel off.
Castiel smiles and inclines his head. "If you promise me the same."
"Yeah, 'course," Dean mutters, squeezing Castiel's shoulders once more, before stepping back.
Can we go now? I feel sick.
"Yeah, yeah," Dean grins. "Let's get Dick!"
---
Garth, Dean, and Sam hack their way through the first floor, looking for the location to the water system. Once they find it, Dean stands guard while Sam and Garth siphon out the water, and replace it with Borax. It's more of a back-up strategy, because no one want to get rained on by Borax, but Garth is glad that they agreed to this.
There doesn't seem to be any unusual activity from the Leviathan yet, which Garth hopes is an indication that either Dick's already dead, or he's still fighting the angels, and about to die.
Dean is vicious in his attacks, and Sam scarily precise, as they make their way up the floors. Eventually, some leviathan must have called downstairs without any response, and sounded the alarm, because once the hunters reach the 8th floor, they find themselves battling harder past more prepared leviathan.
On the 10th floor, the hunters have to retreat to the office kitchen. Garth dumps most of his Borax into the kitchen sink, and Sam lures the leviathan in, while Dean shoves them face-first into the cleaning solution before beheading them.
They've just about cleaned out this floor, when the angels appear and Castiel and Gabriel burn the last few out.
"Thanks," Sam grins, before pulling a face when he sees what's hanging between Castiel and Gabriel's joined hands. Garth and Dean move away from the sink to take a closer look, and Dean actually whoops when he sees Dick Roman's head dangling from Mr. Fizzles' mouth.
"Nice job, guys," Gabriel admires. "The building's clear."
They're nothing but pests, Lucifer hums.
"Wait," Dean says, just before Gabriel snaps them all out. He nods at Garth. "Might as well test it out, man."
Garth grins. "Aw yeah." He walks over to the fire alarm, and pulls. The angels cloak the hunters, as they stand in the middle of the floor, listening to the sizzle of leviathan bodies disintegrating.
"What's with the head?" Sam asks.
You'll see, Lucifer replies.
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Gabriel leaves the hunters with a long list of all the leviathan in America. They may have destroyed Dick Roman and most of the leviathans in his upper echelon, but Castiel emphasizes the importance of striking them all quickly, before another succeeds Dick's position.
He and the archangels set off to eliminate the leviathan in the rest of the world, and Garth joins the Winchesters on a road trip across the U.S. to hunt down the leviathan. Their current modus operandi is to first set off their rigged sprinkler system, and then storm through and decapitate every who's been burned. They eventually regroup with the angels after dealing with a warehouse in Idaho.
"Is that it?" Dean asks, as soon as the angels appear.
Castiel nods, and Dean practically collapses into the chair. "Thank God," he mutters, and he and Garth share a fist-bump.
"I don't he's the one who should be thanked." Everyone jumps, hands glowing with smiting power or guns cocked.
Death smiles wryly, and takes a bite of his elephant ear. He dabs at the powdered sugar around his mouth, before speaking. "That's a good look for you, Lucifer."
Hello, Death, Lucifer greets.
"I believe you have something for me?"
Dick Roman's head drops onto Death's fried dough. Garth gags a little, but Death looks pleased.
Garth hangs behind for most of the conversation, because, hello, no one in their right mind wants to get close to Death. As it turns out, Death is here to return Lucifer to the Cage, as per the devil's own request.
I was kicking Michael's ass, Lucifer brags.
Garth beams when Castiel hands Mr. Fizzles back, clean and unbloodied, and he counts it as a victory.
"Come on, guys," he grins, throwing his arms wide. "We just saved the world! Group hug!"
Death and Gabriel disappear, and Dean and Sam just look uncomfortable. Castiel is awesome, though, and Garth squeezes him tightly when the angel steps into his hug. Garth looks over Castiel's shoulder at Dean and Sam, quirking an eyebrow. Dean steps closer, placing a hand gently in the middle of Castiel' back. Garth scoots to give the Winchesters some space, and then he finds himself with Sam's heavy arm slung across his shoulders, and Castiel pressing against his other side.
They're crowded close, Garth and Sam laughing in relief, and Garth watches out of the corner of his eye as Castiel's other arm hooks around Dean's neck. Dean's arms tighten around Sam and Castiel, one hand fisted in Castiel's jacket, at the small of his back. Garth and Sam look away, at each other, when Dean bends slightly to press a kiss against Castiel's head.
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Garth is investigating a haunting in Tennessee. The first two vics were killed within the same five-mile radius of the town cemetery, but the latest one was clear on the other side of town. He's got it narrowed down to two suspects, assuming that the ghost is tied down to the day of its death, rather than its location.
While Harriet Beason (d. 1943) and her bones are burning, Garth moves to start on Melanie Rowland's grave (d. 1968). He's just stuck his shovel in to break into the ground, though, when the dirt vanishes and an arm pulls Garth back from falling seven feet onto a coffin.
Garth spins around, shovel at the ready, and sees Castiel. "Castiel! Hey," he greets, before looking back down at the grave. "Thanks for that, man."
"My pleasure," Castiel replies. "I came to tell you that this is the correct grave."
"Aw, too bad I still had to dig one up." Garth drops into the grave, prying the coffin open. "So, how's it going? I thought you were hunting with Sam and Dean."
"They are resting." Castiel bends down to help pull Garth out of the grave.
Garth smirks at the angel, as he strikes the match and drops it in. "And you're not resting with Dean."
Castiel colors slightly, burying his hands in his trench coat pockets. Garth grins, and lets the subject drop. "Thanks for stopping by, though. It's good to see you."
Castiel stares at the flames, before shifting his gaze. "I would prefer for you not to hunt alone." The earnest tone of his voice warms Garth.
"Dude, you're welcome to garth stuff with the Garth anytime," he says, picking the shovel back up to bury Rowland's remains. Castiel waves his hand, and both graves are filled, neat grass growing on top.
"Neat," Garth says, slapping Castiel on the back. "I just got one rule, though; no angel magic on my car. I got some cool tunes to show you, anyway."
As they leave, Garth hears Castiel mutter something about boys and their cars, and he laughs, loud and genuine.
END
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