[Fic] John'Verse - Story Eleven - In His Grace (Part 1/3)
Author: Stolen Childe
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters do not belong to me.
Rating: R
Warnings: slash, kid!fic, angst, wing!fic , strong language, H/C, mature themes, somewhat dark!fic, mention of underage sex (the character is 16 at the time), mentions of wanting harm to a child, blasphemy, mentions of het, violence
Pairing/Characters: Castiel/Dean, John Tabris(child OC), Sam, and a few surprises… Mention of past Sam/OFC, mention of OMC/OMC, OMC/OFC
Word Count: 10900+ (No idea what’s going on with me…)
Summary: Sometimes being family can be the most painful thing in the world and sometimes being family can be the only thing that saves you.
Author’s Notes: All right ah… this one is way darker than I ever intended to write for the John’Verse. There are elements within that may be perceived as mentions of domestic abuse (*squeaks*)… But um, it’s hard to explain… I’m not intending for it to be perceived as domestic abuse but more of the epic love story of Dean and Castiel. There is nothing blatantly referred to that was not on the show. And also, I in no way approve of using foul language around a child, no matter how old they are. So the way Dean addresses John may make some people uncomfortable, but Dean is not doing it to be nasty. I used Drew Fuller as John in the image above. Many of you will probably recognize him from Charmed. He has Dean’s/Jensen’s green eyes and everything… It’s kinda perfect. Lastly, I took the info on Cassiel (the angel our Cas is based upon) from the Angelology Encyclopaedia Online.
John’s Age: 7 and 17 years
************************
In His Grace - Part I
John hunched down in his dad’s old brown leather jacket. The material was somehow still holding together after three generations of use. He was not quite large enough to fill it in entirely yet, but at seventeen he still had some growing to do. He was walking home from the library because he told his father he would only use his powers if strictly necessary and his dad refused to let him take one of the cars unless it was Uncle Sam’s beat up black Chevy K10 pick-up circa 1983. John thought it weird his uncle drove a vehicle the same age as him, but only judged when he was forced to drive the damn thing.
He sort of understood why he wasn’t allowed to drive the Mustang, because it was a fucking Mustang, even if he would have got him in good with the kids at school (and possibly finally scored him that date with Jack Barrow from shop class). The one time he was allowed to borrow the Impala he was caught getting hot and heavy with Emma Little in the backseat and he was forever banned from it. He supposed having an angel for a father sucked more than usual sometimes especially when that angel father was tuned into to every rise and spike of his son’s emotions in case he was ever in trouble. It was super embarrassing, for them both. Castiel, though, had pretty well reined the empathy thing in since John hit sixteen and the Emma Little fiasco occurred. Most awkward first time ever. John grinned a little to himself.
He shivered again as the early winter wind picked up and shot straight down his spine which caused him to alter his heading from the corner still half a block away and scoot down the alley to his left. Probably not the smartest move when all was said and done, but John didn’t know that then.
“Hmm… You’re the Prince of Araboth’s boy… The Halfling,” a wry voice muttered from John’s back. The boy spun, eyes going wide, wondering how in the world the creature managed to get a drop on him. “You’ve certainly grown since we’ve last encountered one another… How is Cassiel?” The tone was not at all kind and the sneer on the angel’s face sent a streak of fear down John’s spine. He stamped it down however and reared back, his wings springing forward, invisible to the human eye but still physically present. John knew he had more power than an angel of his status really had a right to. It was something to do with the combined essence of the Righteous Man and Castiel’s own brand of power. Even before Castiel became an archangel he had always been a fairly powerful angel, once Anael’s right hand.
“It’s Castiel,” John sneered, even though he knew his father had many names and the name the other angel spoke was just as true.
The angel chuckled before him, “You don’t remember me do you? Must I refresh your memory?” That’s when it hit John, he knew this angel mostly through second hand account but he knew him nonetheless.
“Jerazol,” John hissed.
-*-
It was after John’s lessons for the day and Castiel was pleased to be strolling through the Eternal Tuesday Afternoon of the Autistic Man that Castiel favoured. John was enjoying it just as much. Chasing butterflies and bees and running along the impossibly green grass, barefoot in lose white shorts and a loose white tunic. John’s wings were displayed proudly in Heaven, a russet-golden-brown and as soft as the down of a duckling to the touch. They were already starting to blacken a little on the tips and Castiel assumed that John would have wings as black as Castiel’s when he was older, most likely flecked with gold. Castiel’s own wings had been a downy silver-grey when he was John’s age and now had deepened to midnight with silver-flecks. Black was not a very common wing colour and having gold interspersed among the feathers was rarer still. Castiel knew that they gold was the influence of Dean’s soul in the child and the thought never failed to make him smile.
The smile faltered immediately and Castiel’s wings flared out in alarm as he sensed the ripple through the air a moment before he saw the cause of it. Castiel watched wide-eyed and dismayed as they became surrounded by several renegade angels from Raphael’s faction. Though their leader was gone they were still desperately seeking revenge and many of them felt that John’s presence in Heaven was an abomination and a blasphemy to Their Father. They never stopped to think that Castiel would not have been given John if it was not what Their Father wanted and he certainly would not have been promoted to Archangel if Their Father was displeased. Yes, Castiel had angered him greatly when he committed his sins all those years ago, but he had made up for it over time and Their Father had forgiven him with in His infinite mercy, even if some of his brothers never would.
“Castiel, how very… stupid of you,” one of the angels commented with a not at all pleasant smile.
Castiel tensed and slipped his archangel blade free from his sleeve. The other angels chuckled and with little warning moved forward and attacked. Castiel was thrown off guard for only a moment before he regained himself. Even before his promotion he was one of God’s fiercest warriors which was partially why he had been chosen in the first place to rescue Dean from Hell. He was intelligent, quick, strong and cunning and he also wasn’t above underhanded methods now that he had spent more time on Earth. He was just about to employ a distraction technique he picked up when he felt something shiver down his spine and moved his gaze from his attacker to turn wide shocked blue eyes to the only angel that had stayed out of the fight, Jerazol, the angel many humans evoked when they conjured.
The fight had only been a distraction! Of course they knew they would not beat him in such a manner. When the words Jerazol were murmuring were finally recognized by Castiel’s battle focused mind, the small shiver down his spine turned into an outright freezing stab in his gut. Castiel dropped his blade and was across the blood darkened grass in an instant sliding in front of John and curling his massive duel-set of wings around his son just as he felt a shock slice through his body. John watched on in horror.
John could only watch as the angels attacked his papa. Papa was fighting real hard and he was real good at it, but John knew he couldn’t keep it up forever. That’s when Papa had stopped real suddenly and John found himself covered instantly in his father’s warm comforting wings. He stayed there huddled in the darkness, clinging to his father’s shirt and feeling his father’s arms painfully tight around his back. John sensed the other angels disappear a moment before light hit his closed eyelids and he opened them abruptly in surprise.
“Oh, I had forgotten this feeling,” Papa muttered and then the scariest thing of all happened Papa’s beautiful wings vanished with a blaze of strange purple black light then his eyes went real dark and then John found himself suddenly crushed under his father’s weight, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he slumped forward.
John clamped down on the scream in the back of his throat and then clung to his father as tight as he could, “Daddy, Daddy, I want Daddy. Daddy, I need help. Please I want Daddy.”
John felt a funny feeling just then. He had felt it before of course but never this long and never this… deep. He felt a twist and a tug behind his navel, he felt his wings snap out as wide as they could reach on either side before snapping back in with a great gust of wind and then he felt like he was falling through the air, a million-million miles an hour. Before, with one shuddering halt, he stopped landing with a crash down on a soft surface the heavy weight of his Papa still over him. John snapped open his eyes and stared down the barrel of a gun, glinting silver and menacing in the moonlight.
“John!” Dean gasped in surprise. “What the… Cas?’
“Daddy,” John said in a soft and broken voice the word that Dean hadn’t heard in far too long tugging at his heart and gut and twisting.
“Daddy… Papa’s hurt, I didn’t know where else to go. He’s broken Daddy, his wings are gone, you have to help,” John whimpered. All Dean could do was gather his son close to his chest and murmur useless condolences while Cas breathed, fast asleep and dead to the world sprawled across their bed.
-*-
Before John really registered it happening, the stunning silver of his father’s archangel blade descended into his hand from the Heavenly cash where it was stored. It throbbed with the familiar comforting power that was so purely his father.
“Hmm… well aren’t you special,” Jerazol commented. John was gratified to see a flash of fear in the other angel’s gaze at the sight of the blade.
“Yeah, I’m not a little kid anymore,” John grinned darkly, flashing too many teeth like he’d seen his dad do in the middle of a particularly vicious hunt.
Jerazol fluttered his wings distractedly, seeming to second guess himself before he made his choice and flitted closer to John grinning, “You’re lucky it’s you we aren’t after Boy, we’ll find your father. It’s only a matter of time. Pass along that message for us, will you?”
As soon as the other angel disappeared John squeezed his eyes shut and focused on home. He felt the disorienting buzz wash over him and landed a moment later in the middle of their living room. His ten year old cousin Mary squeaked and dropped her book, honey curls haloing her for a moment as she scrambled back. His dad only flickered his eyes over to the centre of the room and quirked a brow.
His father looked younger than his fifty-odd years, a combination of genetics and the influence of Castiel’s grace upon his human body. Though his eyes still crinkled warmly when he smiled and the age and experience shone out of green eyes identical to John’s own.
“Whatever happened to only doing that in case of emergency?” Dean drawled, turning the page of the paper he was reading with a flick.
“This is an emergency,” John gritted out. “Where’s Pop?”
“Communing with the Holy Ghost or whatever,” Dean nodded to the roof and got to his feet stretching the stiffness from his spine, the cracks and pops filling the room. John could only shake his head at the ease of his father’s attitude. All in a day’s work John supposed. His dad had been doing this for his entire life, less five years.
“So what’s the-” John didn’t let Dean finish the sentence and popped up to the roof where Castiel stood ramrod straight, arms loose at his side and eyes closed.
“Po-” he was cut off with his father holding a hand palm up towards John. John figured he was managing his garrison from afar or whatever it was archangels did and waited impatiently. Did no one care? Especially after what happened last time?
-*-
Castiel woke up feeling an odd twisting sickness in is belly and a dizzying pounding behind his eyes. That was odd, he didn’t recall coming across any liquor stores recently and divesting them of their contents. But nonetheless it was the same feeling as it had that one time that he had gotten spectacularly drunk then helped to slay a whore. Good day. Castiel winced. He recalled … The last thing he recalled was… John! The battle, the spell it all came rushing back.
Castiel sat up, the abrupt movement causing his back and chest to flare angrily and a racking cough to fall free form his burning lungs as he gasped into the darkness.
“Woah, woah! Take it easy Cas, I got you, I got you,” a comforting voice and then warm hands on his skin and he was slowly, gradually lowered back onto the soft mattress beneath.
“John!” Castiel shouted with no little alarm, still unable to connect his disjointed thoughts, feelings and memories.
“Cas, he’s right here,” Dean said gently. Castiel managed to turn his throbbing head and saw his son curled around Dean’s leg, clinging tightly and sleeping. Dean was leaning against the headboard next to Castiel, bent at a strange angle as to not jostle the boy but still offer what reassurances he could to the angel.
“He’s safe,” Castiel stated with relief.
“He safe,” Dean concurred. “He brought you here to me and then he fell asleep once I reassured him you were alive and well… But tell me Cas, what the hell happened?”
Cas smiled bitterly, “Vigilante justice.”
Dean just blinked, “Doesn’t really clear much up, Babe.”
Castiel struggled to rise, feeling as if his entire body was being stabbed by thousands of tiny knives. Dean helped him, easing him to lean gently against the headboard.
“There are many in Heaven who are not at all pleased with me and my new found… Grace. I suppose you could say. They still feel as if I betrayed many of them and that Father should have banished me from Heaven. They think John is an abomination. The… spell they used was ancient Enochian, the oldest of the old. It binds an angel’s power. They meant to cleanse Heaven of John… for lack of a better term. I managed to make it over to him just in time to take the spell myself. I fear had they succeeded… Our son would be dead,” Castiel finished with a shudder and heard Dean take in a quick, sharp breath through his nose.
Dean frowned, “So you’re what… Juiceless?”
Castiel smiled ironically, “To the greatest extent. For all intents and purposes I’m completely and utterly human.”
Dean’s eyes widened, “Cas… I’m so-”
“Dean,” Castiel interrupted. “It’s all right. The spell was never intended for use on an archangel and it is only my previous affiliations with the seraphim that resulted in the spell even succeeding. As far as I know, the binding will not hold. It will only be a matter of time before my Grace breaks through.”
“Will they come after John?” Dean asked with a tremor in his voice.
Castiel leaned his head back and closed his eyes, “I… I don’t know. And I can’t protect him anymore. Dean, I’m so tired.”
Dean smiled sadly, “Sleep Cas. I’ll take the first watch.”
Normally sitting sandwiched between his two angels would bring Dean nothing but peace and comfort, however with one completely tapped of power and the other his little boy he could only feel anxiety. The house was protected the best they were able with two angels residing in it, but if the ones who attacked John were out there still Dean didn’t know what it was he could possibly do against them. He wished that Balthazar or Gabriel were still alive, at least then Dean could send up a quick Hail Mary (or whoever) and call in a favour or two to put those angel scratchings on John, if he were even capable of holding them. At least then he’d be cloaked. But any sympathetic angels were a thing of the past.
“Daddy?” John stirred against his leg and blinked as he raised his head.
“Hey Buddy,” Dean said.
“Daddy… I’m sorry I got Papa hurt,” John sniffed. “His wings are gone and I… I didn’t mean to do it.” Hearing the hurt in John’s voice and hearing him call Dean ‘daddy’ again were doing odd things to Dean’s emotions.
“John, it isn’t your fault. Papa was protecting you, that’s his job and that’s my job. I would have done the exact same thing, jumped in front like that. You didn’t ask those angels to attack and you certainly didn’t bring it on so you can’t be sorry for something you didn’t do. Cas and me? We’re your parents Kiddo, protecting and loving you is what we’re here for. Don’t feel sorry for us doing that.”
“But Daddy… Who’s going to protect you and Papa?” John scooted closer and basically crawled into Dean’s lap.
Dean had to swallow past the lump in his throat, “John, we’ll protect each other and Uncle Sam too. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
-*-
Now, ten years later, all John could remember was that horrible sinking pain he had back then every time he reached for the comfort of his father and only felt a cold, hard wall. He shuddered at the memory, shivering in the cool air on the roof and waited until Castiel was done, or tried to.
“Po-” another infuriating hand and John growled low in his throat. He muttered a few Enochian curses and stomped his feet against the cold.
“John,” his dad had come out to the front yard and shouted up, “just come back inside. He’ll be done when he’s done.”
“I’m not leaving him unprotected up here,” John snapped back, scooting to the edge of the roof. His precarious perch on the edge sent a spark of anxiety through his dad’s eyes.
“Dad, relax, I got wings in case you forgot,” John rolled his eyes.
“Don’t get smart with me,” Dean glared up. “Just tell me what the fuck is going on.”
“No, when we’re all here. Did you call Uncle Sam?” John asked.
Grumbling Dean waved a dismissive hand and disappeared back into the house.
John spun around and nearly fell off the edge of the roof when he felt the warm weight of his father’s hand on his shoulder. He was caught easily before he could topple down and peered into his father’s warm blue eyes.
“It’s very sweet you wish to protect me John, but I assure you I do not require it. Now what is this about?” Castiel asked lowly, gaze flickering over his son’s face, tracking over the wavy chestnut hair, freckles, the spark in his green eyes the straight nose and square jaw. A perfect mix of Dean and Castiel.
If possible, over the years, his father had become more serene, he was more angelic now, in the classical sense, than John had ever recalled him being and he never failed to settle John’s many fears and anxieties. John let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes before speaking.
“We should all be together for it… This… It’s hard. I keep… Let’s go inside and wait for Uncle Sam,” John managed.
-*-
Mary glared suspiciously at her cousin and uncles, pouting in the corner as she waited for her daddy to get here. She knew something was up and knew she would be sent away the moment Daddy got home.
“Keep that up Mary Jessica, and you’ll burn a hole in the carpet,” Uncle Dean remarked. John had been pacing the floor for the last ten minutes ever since him and Uncle Cas came back inside. Uncle Cas was sitting at the table calmly sipping a cup of tea while an old musty book was open in front of him, not at all concerned.
Mary heard the tinkle of keys in the lock and rose to her knees on the couch, leaning across the back of it and waiting for Daddy to appear in the doorway. Daddy held it open, ushering and almost seven year old Jasper ahead of him, the small stern boy placing all his concentration into carrying the large brown paper bag.
John came over and took the bag from his little brother ruffling his black hair before grinning down at him, “Jass, can you go upstairs with Mary for me? I gotta talk to Dads and Uncle Sam.”
Jasper nodded, before saying quietly, “Okay.” Wide piercing blue eyes moved to stare expectantly at Mary. Mary rolled her eyes and grumbled about being treated like a baby before taking her small cousin’s hand and dragging him up the stairs.
“All right John, now spit it out. What the fuck, Dude?” Dean glared, all patience used up.
“Dean,” Castiel chastised.
John let out another shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair, “I was confronted by Jerazol on my way home.”
“What?!” the Winchester brothers snarled while his father merely raised a brow.
-*-
John had barely left Castiel’s side since the boy had brought the angel home. He moved carefully around with his father as Castiel shuffled to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Dean watched with sad eyes as Cas winced, swallowing the cool liquid. His entire body seemed to be one large concentration of pain and Dean wandered if he ever really would recover.
Castiel eased himself down next to Dean on the bed looking thoroughly exhausted, slumping bonelessly and resting his head on Dean’s shoulder closing his eyes.
“Papa…?” John whispered, scooting over to the bed and raising a hesitant hand.
Castiel opened tired blue eyes, “Yes Angel?”
“Are you… I mean… Is there anything… Papa! I’m so, so sorry this is all my fault!” John sobbed and flung himself at the weakened angel. Dean couldn’t help but notice Castiel’s wince at having the whole weight of a seven year old thrust against him but Cas just grit his teeth and raised shaky arms.
“John Tabris, this is not your fault and I will not have you saying that again. Do I make myself clear? It was Jerazol and the others and I swear the moment I regain my strength they’ll pay.” Dean couldn’t help but agree. They would pay fucking hard.
-*-
“John, we are at a much more advantageous position now than we were back then. You needn’t worry,” Castiel said, knowing exactly what was going through his son’s mind.
“Yeah, Kiddo, we’re cool. The bastard shows up, your father will give him a good beating and then we can all go on with our increasingly boring lives,” Dean shrugged.
“But Dad! What they did to him last time!” John protested, not understanding why everyone was being so flippant about all this.
“John, it wasn’t the first time I was without power. Yes it was painful, more physically than anything, but I had no fear I wouldn’t get it back. I know it was very traumatic for you, I do understand. You had me with you for the first seven years of your life. Linked. Then to have that removed so suddenly… I can’t imagine. When I lost the voices of the Host it was slow, gradual. To be deafened suddenly… I am sorry for that. But it will not happen again,” Castiel said firmly. “I will not allow myself to be surprised by Jerazol or the others again and we’ll protect you.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about! Jesus fucking Christ!” John exploded running both hands through his hair and turning his back on his parents and silent uncle. Thunder clapped outside and the sky lit like a beacon.
“John Tabris!” Castiel hissed, eye flickering outside and thoughts soothing the Host.
John turned around and glared at his parents before throwing his head back and arms to the side, “Yeah! Well fuck you too! You stupid bastards! Leave my family alone!”
“John, come on Man,” Dean soothed. “Believe me, if anyone gets it, I do. I know exactly how you feel right now Johnny, I do. Just chill out though, all right? You keep this shit up and you’re going to scare your brother.”
John snapped his mouth closed any protests that were hovering there lost with those words. He nodded and slumped down on the couch, falling into moody silence.
Dean just shook his head as he gazed at his teenager. All of Castiel wrath and all of Dean’s surly attitude, it was a wonder they house was still standing after all these years of three angels, a prepubescent little girl and the two Winchester brothers living under the same roof. He was just glad that Jasper took after Castiel more than any of them. He was so much easier than John had ever been. Though, granted, John was raised on the road with two stumbling idiots for parents and a clueless uncle, Dean wondered half the time how they managed.
Jasper was raised quieter, with the benefit of experience behind all three and John was ten years older and surprisingly helpful. He was an expert in Dean and Castiel. Mary was just a female Winchester, and that was enough said. Dean couldn’t help but grin at the little handful Sam somehow managed to land himself with. But if there was ever any better outcome of a drunken, morose fumble in the dark, Dean dared anyone to find it. Mary was good for Sammy and Sammy was good for Mary. Even if the kid had been clueless when the infant was thrust upon him by that stripper who gave a tight smile and a dismissive wave nine months after their one night stand. Planning a very long lecture to his shell-shocked little brother about the merits of protection and of not sleeping with strippers, Dean ushered Sam down to bed to process the sudden change of a lifetime and preceded to spoil the as of yet unnamed baby girl rotten. She was unceremoniously Christened Mary Jessica hours later and with blonde wisps of hair and startling then blue eyes, Dean thought Sam chose perfect.
Regardless though, John was still John and John had always been a demanding little brat who could pout with the best of them mixed in between angelic grins and moments of shocking sweetness and Dean wouldn’t have his first born any other way.
“John,” Dean tried hesitantly coming over to sit next to his son.
“What?” John snarled, green eyes flashing and Dean had the sudden disorienting thought of staring into a mirror.
“What did Jerazol say, John? Any indication of what he wants?” Dean asked calmly.
“Nothing beyond telling me that they’re coming after Papa,” John whispered, broken and reminiscent of his seven-year-old self. Dean sighed.
-*-
“They’re gonna come after Papa,” John whispered, later on when Castiel was sleeping once again. Dean held his son on his lap, the television was on flickering blue against their faces but they weren’t really watching it.
“He’ll be okay,” Dean said, though he wasn’t entirely certain of it himself.
“Daddy, you don’t know that for sure,” John answered. “I know you don’t. He not strong like he was he vul…val…vener… venerable now.”
Dean smiled despite himself, “I think what you’re looking for is vulnerable, and yes, I know, but we’ll figure something out. We always do… You know though, venerable works too, when it comes to your Papa. Castiel is one of the most venerable beings I’ve ever met.”
“What’s that mean?” John asked, leaning more heavily against Dean’s chest.
“Respected, admired,” Dean offered, “and it still holds Johnny, no matter what form your father’s in. He’s venerable and that alone means you don’t have to worry. He has very good friends, in extremely high places and he’s going to get better. These bad guys who hurt him won’t get away with it for long. You’ll see.”
“No truer words.”
At that Dean tensed ramrod straight standing up quick as a flash and tucking John down behind the couch. When he caught sight of what was before him, Dean gasped.
-*-
“Apparently The Word isn’t what it used to be,” Castiel sighed, “if Jerazol can just come back like this. I think my not so humble companion and I are going to have to have a chat once I return to Heaven. I hate seeing you like this John.”
John looked up and over where his father was standing in his slouched posture, eyes sad, John leaned his head back against the couch and sighed, “Just give me a plan and point me in the right direction and I’ll feel better.”
“I don’t think we really need a plan,” Sam offered hesitantly, three sets of eyes lasered towards him. “Look Cas is kick ass, John’s no slouch and Dean and I can handle an angel blade when push shoves, you know? So I say we just get Jasper and Mary tucked up safe and wait it out. I mean unless we have an entire legion raining down on us it shouldn’t actually be a problem. We’re all older and wiser now… still dumb as posts what with some of the crap we take on... But we handle it. Cas, you have more guys on your side than ever, right? What with that friend of yours safe and secure where he should have been twenty years ago so Jerazol can’t have that many companions to help him out.”
“Sam is correct, unless Jerazol has an archangel on his side, between John and I we should be able to lay waste to whatever attempts they make. I will not be caught in a trap again, that’s for certain,” Castiel declared sternly.
Dean let out a breath, “Okay but what if-”
“DADDY!!!!!” Mary’s scream rent the air and in an instant the two men and the two angels were on alert. Castiel and John disappeared with a gust while Dean and Sam pounded up the stairs, Sam wide eyed with panic and Dean not fairing much better.
Continue to Part II