[fic] Cyborg Gabriel 7/?
Title: Cyborg Gabriel 7/?
Fandom: Supernatural.
Rating: PG-13ish.
Warnings: Description of injuries/broken metal.
Pairings/Characters: Gabriel, Castiel, Sam, Dean. <-- Only listing the main characters as otherwise this'll get far too long as this goes on.
Word Count: 3,581 words, with 21,360 total so far.
Summary: Archangel Class Cyborgs are terrifying in combat, and practically unknowable off the battlefield. Castiel's an experimental unit with an unusual design, and he's caught Gabriel's interest.
Note: I refer you all to the first part of this cyborg story for notes and whatnot.
A few new POV characters for this chapter, though I can't guarantee I'll use them as POV characters again. Either way: enjoy!
Warning! This is still a WIP and while more is coming within a day or two, you should read this at your own risk. If you're cool with that, then, read on!
---
Lucifer is a glory of wings in motion, and yet even to the least educated eye it is obvious that he is weary. Metal has been overused and abused, and if it does not gain a chance to rest it will snap.
He has been flying for a long time, and for all of the trouble and unpleasantness he expects at the Facility, it will be good to come to a place of rest.
Lucifer extends his wings once more and if a prayer passes his lips only God hears it. He is afraid that this has gone on too long, and that he truly has managed to destroy these metal wings, and the other archangels have been firm: he is not to reveal that he can fly without them.
Difficulties with temperature causes them to be brittle, he recalls, and wasn't it such a bad time to explain that to Michael? So he darted about the truth and accepted the mission and did not lie.
Yes, he could do this. Yes, he would do this. Yes, he would return within the given span of time. Stop worrying, Michael. You weren't worrying, Michael? Don't lie to me. I don't like lies.
It went like that, see. Lucifer smiles to think of it, and discovers that he aches to smile. The cold spreads with every breath, and he discovers new ways for it to torment him as it does.
He cannot prevent it, and he cannot gain warmth.
There: the roof is in sight, and he may land. Soon.
Lucifer looks over himself once more and does not flinch from the sight. There are obvious stresses in the metal, and his flesh is obviously weakened, possibly sick or unusable. Yet he is still silver-white, and the sunlight makes him shine, and his wings - battered as they are, the dawn's light causes the steel to appear clean, and strong.
He lands abruptly as a wing gives out at last and the snap is a roar to his ears, and then: more pain.
The roof is solid and unforgiving, and his body refuses to move and he refuses to show that he doesn't need it, that he can repair it with but a thought. He refuses to admit his pain, and he does not hesitate before attempting to make it move and stand up again.
For he is Lucifer, and he is proud.
---
Sam's morning is almost ideal. Up an hour before dawn, peaceful, his morning routine soothing so he can think about the events of the previous day...it is almost the perfect morning.
Then the emergency call comes in. He's in the middle of after-breakfast cleanup when the phone rings, and even as he is thinking that he's in a good enough mood to handle a call from Gabriel, the message itself brings him to a stop.
Lucifer has returned from his mission badly damaged and may not survive the morning without immediate treatment. (Sam has to pause to think: what was his mission? What on earth could hurt an archangel that badly? They rely on being practically invincible, after all.)
On top of that, Lucifer is refusing to let Raphael treat him. The technicians at the scene cannot fathom why he would refuse Raphael's help, and Raphael has stated that he will not treat Lucifer without his consent.
To put it bluntly: Sam needs to drop whatever he is doing and make his way to Facility Alpha so he can treat Lucifer.
Sam hangs up, and doesn't waste time thinking about it. He can wonder at Lucifer's motives later, at what would - could - damage Lucifer like that, and all of his little trains of thought later.
---
Lucifer finally lets himself rest, and stops trying to move. Raphael won't touch him, and the fate of this vessel is in human hands now. He can close his eyes and wait, listening to the frantic thoughts around him.
Williams is panicking, thinking 'oh god he is going to die and we can't stop it and oh god it's an archangel why won't he let Raphael help him does he have a deathwish he is going to die we have to stop it oh god' and Lucifer wants to smile at how frantic his thoughts are, how afraid he is.
Raphael is unreadable, but he is there and Lucifer can guess at his thoughts, or at least at what he would say: 'Fool. You cannot mend your vessel without my help, and your opinion of the humans is well known to me. What are you planning? What do you gain from this? Do not expect to get away with it, whatever it is. Michael will intervene.' There is nothing new there, in Lucifer's opinion, and that is why Raphael bores him. The anger may help Raphael maintain composure when speaking with Lucifer, but Lucifer has grown tired of it.
He moves on. Other technicians, other humans...most of them have Williams' line of thought. Some wonder about his mission, some wonder at Raphael, and others wonder at why he is here instead of landing at Facility Beta, where he is usually stationed.
Abruptly the tone in thoughts changes, from panic and confusion to relief, and Lucifer opens his eyes. He cannot read this newcomer, and it is not an answer.
Lucifer looks across the roof at Sam Winchester and feels a familiar tug. Yes, his Grace whispers to him. Yes.
This is his vessel, then. The human whose body he would be wearing if not for this ludicrous plan involving technology and metal parts. Lucifer cannot help but try to sit up now, to get a better look at his vessel, the single most important human in this time. As convenient as the cyborg vessel is without its need for consent, he cannot help but want Sam to walk over and tell him Yes, I consent, I am yours.
His Grace wants it, he wants it, and not just because it is the natural order of things: using his proper vessel would allow him to become a better conduit to his Grace, to his being - he would be stronger.
Lucifer forces himself to stop moving, to halt the motion before he can begin it. To close his eyes.
The archangels here, Raphael or Gabriel or both, know who Sam Winchester is. It explains the warding on Sam's forehead, invisible to the human eye but not to his - it explains why he cannot hear Sam Winchester's thoughts.
Lucifer wants to laugh. Oh, what a prize for them to hide here. And here he is, in a condition where he will have no choice but to spend time with the Chief Technician here - Sam.
It's almost as if he planned the whole thing, he thinks, and expects that Raphael will think that as well. It would be best not to correct him, Lucifer decides, as it is easy to predict Raphael's movements when he is suspicious.
There are fingers on his cheek, and he opens his eyes once more, knowing who it is.
Sam Winchester, his vessel, looking down at his broken form.
---
It's a new kind of damage, one Sam isn't used to repairing: cold. Lucifer is freezing to the touch, and Sam draws his hand back quickly before his fingers freeze to the metal. There are thin lines where the metal has been stressed, and he can see where Lucifer's wings are useless, where the metal has simply snapped.
Lucifer's eyes are cold yet bright, and Sam wants to name the color of them yellow instead of gold, but regardless of their color they are certainly aware, and Lucifer is watching him.
Sam is suddenly glad for all the damage Lucifer has sustained, because he is suddenly gripped by fear, the kind of fear Gabriel inspired in him when they first met. It's worse, in a way, because Lucifer is broken, and Sam is still afraid that Lucifer can destroy him regardless of what has happened to his form.
"Remove the wings," Sam says, to break his line of thoughts. He needs to get moving, if he is to save Lucifer, and that reminds him - he whirls around. "Raphael! Why the hell aren't you helping him?"
If Sam dies for swearing at an archangel, he is blaming Gabriel. He has spent too long in that angel's company.
Raphael only narrows his eyes. "Lucifer has forbidden me to heal him. I will honor his wishes."
Which drags a sound that is wrong from Lucifer, and yet Sam still identifies it as a laugh.
"Then get out of the way," Sam tells Raphael instead of reacting to the laugh, and whirls back around. He has work to do, and he needs to remember how to effectively treat frostbite before he can begin work on the organic parts of Lucifer.
"Do not think it will happen," Raphael says clearly. "Begin to speak of it and I will rip your tongue from your head."
Sam is going to get dizzy from turning around so quickly. "What?"
Raphael is staring past him, at Lucifer. Sam doesn't have a clue about what Raphael's talking about. Which means it's more secretive angel business that Sam shouldn't know about. Abruptly Sam wishes Gabriel were here, because he would manage to drop more hints, and give him more information, but -
Work. Yes. The technicians have removed Lucifer's wings, and are loading him onto a stretcher. Time to head inside and begin the major repairs.
Sam studies Lucifer's face once more, then follows after the stretcher, simply looking at the damage and assessing what needs to be done.
If Lucifer watches him back, he doesn't comment on it.
---
Dean's office is bland. Castiel explores it and finds barely any trace of the human who occupies it for most of the day. This is odd, he thinks, and when Dean walks in minutes later in a leather jacket and jeans and the least formal attitude Castiel has ever met -
It is odd. Dean walks in wearing everything that is missing from his office. There are grease-stains on the jeans, he carries himself like a soldier, and he is smiling as he apologizes for his lack of uniform. He mentions his brother.
Castiel decides he likes what he sees.
---
Dean doesn't let Castiel's presence in his office faze him in the slightest as he walks in, instead offering up idle chatter while he wraps his mind around the question of 'why is Castiel here?'
He still doesn't know what to make of Castiel, and he still doesn't know if he should say anything about something Castiel said last time they met. But then Castiel moves over to the window and says something that makes Dean stop.
"You aren't here when you leave this office," Castiel says. "Why?"
"You mean like photos and all that personal decoration crap?"
"Yes."
Dean pauses, debates briefly on an answer he might give to Gabriel simply to be evasive, and decides against it. "I deal with Gabriel on a daily basis, and don't like to give him too much ammunition to use. I brought in a picture once and he spent a day quizzing me about it before I found it the next morning with a mustache drawn on it."
"I don't think I understand you."
Dean eyes Castiel for a moment, then decides to give him a chance.
"Gabriel. If he doesn't want to talk about something, or otherwise keep me from doing my job, he'll do almost anything to distract me. It doesn't always work, but either way I don't want to give him something to use."
"Ah."
Dean can't tell if that means he gets it or not. He decides to let it go, and turns to another subject.
"You said you can't control your emotions, and that you think you're flawed because of it." Dean says, putting it out on the table. He won't pussyfoot around something he wants to ask.
"Yes," Castiel confirms. Damn, that was what Dean thought he heard. "Am I wrong to think that way?"
"I'd say so," Dean says. "Especially if you're trying to imitate a human."
"Imitate?"
"You're the most human-looking angel I've seen yet. Gabriel literally stole your tie, and if you want it back I'll force it out of him. Castiel, you wear a trench-coat. You can't tell me you're not trying to imitate us."
"I'm not an imitation," Castiel says, and pauses, brows furrowing.
"Something you're not allowed to talk to me about?" Dean says as gently as he can. Because if that's the issue he's going to expose some of Gabriel's misdeeds if only to startle Castiel into talking. He's curious, damnit.
"Ah...I have not been told specifically not to talk about my origins. I may speak to you."
Though you probably shouldn't, Dean thinks. "If your superiors give you hell over this, tell them to sent their complaints to me. I'll handle it."
Normally Dean doesn't try to stir up trouble or learn things he shouldn't. Normally if he doesn't want to learn something, Gabriel will tell him regardless just to make trouble for him. But last night Dean learned far more than he probably ever should have, and well - why not go for a little more? Michael's going to be pissed at him either way.
Castiel is silent for a long minute, and Dean wonders if he's going to simply leave, or tell him no.
"I am not an imitation," Castiel says. "I am...in a sense human. Closer to being one than my brothers ever will be. I share his memories."
"Share whose memories?" Dean wonders if he should get a notepad, then decides against it. His memory's good, and he's not that nerdy.
"My...ah..vessel's." Castiel looks at himself. "My flesh. Jimmy."
"Jimmy." Dean says, and he absolutely doesn't know what to do with this. "There's a person in there?"
"Yes. No." Castiel frowns. "I...am not certain if I should go on."
Dean thinks he is beginning to grasp exactly why Gabriel reacted as strongly as he did to Castiel's existence.
"This would be a bad place to stop," he says. "I'm assuming the worst, and if it's not that..."
"I understand," Castiel says, but he doesn't begin to talk quite yet, instead having a seat across from Dean. If Dean didn't know better he would say that Castiel was fidgeting. He watches Castiel adjust his shirt and tie instead and wonders...he expects that there's not a lot of biological parts left in Castiel, especially after Gabriel attacked him, but that doesn't answer his question: is there a person in there? A living one? Some poor bastard who can think and feel but who isn't in control?
In any case, he understands Castiel's reluctance to speak now.
"Jimmy is not awake," Castiel says finally. "He has been sleeping within me since my creation."
"So there is someone in there."
"I would be unable to exist if there weren't someone in here." Castiel says softly. "Before you ask, Jimmy consented to this."
"Consented..? To what? To his body being mangled and controlled and - " Dean breaks himself off before he begins to yell, because Castiel's calm and quiet little speech has angered him. He wants to yell, and to make a point - he wants to go find Gabriel and tell him that he agrees with him.
"His body was already mangled. A pair of angels destroyed the demons who were torturing him and his family but were unable to save anyone except for him. His body and mind were broken, and that is what led him on the path to me." Castiel says.
"They dragged him back and made him an offer, you mean," Dean says.
"In kinder terms than that, yes."
"Do you realize how wrong this sounds? How wrong this entire situation is? A man nearly dies and loses his family and he's turned into...into a meatsuit and you're going around complaining because you can't find inner peace." Dean stares at Castiel and is just...Castiel's not reacting. He's just staring. There's not a trace of shame, or anything - "Damn it!"
There's a long moment of silence before Castiel's face twists in confusion. "I...do not know what to tell you." A pause. "I understand grief. My vessel...Jimmy begged me to give him peace. Respite from his loss; his pain. I gave him sleep. Someday he will wake, and I will help him then as best I can."
Dean honestly doesn't know what to say to that. Castiel is really good at killing the mood.
That's when the door swings open and Gabriel comes in, making a beeline to the desk before flopping himself onto it.
"I need to complain to you," Gabriel says, and waves his hand at Castiel without looking at him. "You, shoo! I need the guidance counselor now."
"Give him his tie," Dean says, after a deep breath. "And then get out. We're in the middle of a serious conversation and you're not invited."
"But Dean - "
"Give him his tie."
Gabriel slides off the desk, giving them both the hairy eye. He raises a hand and the tie appears in it, and Castiel proceeds to stare at him.
Dean exhales. This is going to get worse and worse, isn't it? He's not supposed to know that Gabriel can do that, if Castiel's reaction is anything to go by, and Gabriel's attitude is already terrible today.
"How did you..." Castiel breathes, then stops. "Ah...forgive me."
"It's probably something you can do with a little practice," Gabriel says absently, and drops the tie on Castiel's knee. "Now. Shoo. I need to talk to Dean. You can get your therapy session later."
"Were you eavesdropping?" Dean asks.
"No," Gabriel says. "I was making an educated guess. Honestly, are you always this paranoid? No, wait, you are. Especially if we're talking about me. But this time I wasn't eavesdropping. I don't need to. And I don't want to. Can we move on now?"
"No, we can't. What is with you today, anyways?"
"Lucifer's on the roof which means I have a host of new problems to worry about, Dean. I repeat: Castiel, shoo!"
This time Gabriel snakes his head around to fix Castiel with a piercing stare, and Dean doesn't blame him when he all but runs for the door. The atmosphere's dangerous again, as if Gabriel's about to break out the weaponry, and Dean's half-tempted to pull out a gun, except that he doesn't have one here and it wouldn't work on Gabriel either way.
The door closes behind Castiel, and Gabriel swings back around to face Dean. "Now, to deal with you - "
There are fingers on his forehead before he can blink, and Gabriel is chanting in a language he doesn't recognize.
Dean blinks, and almost jerks his head back, but something in him is sitting up and recognizing a blessing, and the tiny shred of belief in him is basking in the moment.
"What the hell - "
"Nothing demonic about this, Dean," Gabriel whispers, something reverent in his voice, and pulls his fingers back. It's the first time Dean's ever seen him do something truly angelic in all senses of the word, and it's making everything he heard last night come to life in a way it hadn't before.
Gabriel snaps his fingers, and the moment breaks.
"There. You're all protected now. One big privacy curtain around your mind. It's the same kind I put on Sam, so relax. It won't hurt you."
"Privacy curtain?"
"Oh, I haven't told you yet?" Gabriel's slow grin is giving Dean a bad feeling. "Archangels can read minds. And until a few seconds ago, I was in your head. I'm glad you agree with me about Castiel now, by the way."
"You what - !"
As Dean is automatically standing up to yell at him, Gabriel's grin widens and he snaps away, vanishing into thin air.
Dean slowly slumps back in his seat. Gabriel's doing this on purpose, he has to be. For a second Dean considers the idea of Gabriel lying, but he dismisses it. Gabriel wouldn't want to lie about something like that, not when he probably can read minds.
And then there was something else Gabriel said - Lucifer on the roof? That's big. That's way big. Dean should get going, and he should make sure Sam knows what's going on, after he gets the news sorted out.
As he stands up again, a note appears on his desk. Gabriel. He grabs it up and reads it quickly.
Dean,
A few things I didn't mention: 1) the other archangels are probably going to grill you about the new protection. Don't fret, they can't undo it. Not easily, at least, and I'll notice if they try.
2) Lucifer was injured during the mission, and his usual affliction isn't making things any easier on Sam (who is trying to repair him) so I'd stay out of the way of that for now.
3) Michael is coming. Soon.
Dean stares at the note and can't explain it. The last line...he's met Michael before. He's a decent guy, for an archangel.
Yet there's a chill running down his spine, and he can almost picture Gabriel's serious face (he's seen it a few times) speaking the words to him.
Soon.
---
Previous | Next
Fandom: Supernatural.
Rating: PG-13ish.
Warnings: Description of injuries/broken metal.
Pairings/Characters: Gabriel, Castiel, Sam, Dean. <-- Only listing the main characters as otherwise this'll get far too long as this goes on.
Word Count: 3,581 words, with 21,360 total so far.
Summary: Archangel Class Cyborgs are terrifying in combat, and practically unknowable off the battlefield. Castiel's an experimental unit with an unusual design, and he's caught Gabriel's interest.
Note: I refer you all to the first part of this cyborg story for notes and whatnot.
A few new POV characters for this chapter, though I can't guarantee I'll use them as POV characters again. Either way: enjoy!
Warning! This is still a WIP and while more is coming within a day or two, you should read this at your own risk. If you're cool with that, then, read on!
---
Lucifer is a glory of wings in motion, and yet even to the least educated eye it is obvious that he is weary. Metal has been overused and abused, and if it does not gain a chance to rest it will snap.
He has been flying for a long time, and for all of the trouble and unpleasantness he expects at the Facility, it will be good to come to a place of rest.
Lucifer extends his wings once more and if a prayer passes his lips only God hears it. He is afraid that this has gone on too long, and that he truly has managed to destroy these metal wings, and the other archangels have been firm: he is not to reveal that he can fly without them.
Difficulties with temperature causes them to be brittle, he recalls, and wasn't it such a bad time to explain that to Michael? So he darted about the truth and accepted the mission and did not lie.
Yes, he could do this. Yes, he would do this. Yes, he would return within the given span of time. Stop worrying, Michael. You weren't worrying, Michael? Don't lie to me. I don't like lies.
It went like that, see. Lucifer smiles to think of it, and discovers that he aches to smile. The cold spreads with every breath, and he discovers new ways for it to torment him as it does.
He cannot prevent it, and he cannot gain warmth.
There: the roof is in sight, and he may land. Soon.
Lucifer looks over himself once more and does not flinch from the sight. There are obvious stresses in the metal, and his flesh is obviously weakened, possibly sick or unusable. Yet he is still silver-white, and the sunlight makes him shine, and his wings - battered as they are, the dawn's light causes the steel to appear clean, and strong.
He lands abruptly as a wing gives out at last and the snap is a roar to his ears, and then: more pain.
The roof is solid and unforgiving, and his body refuses to move and he refuses to show that he doesn't need it, that he can repair it with but a thought. He refuses to admit his pain, and he does not hesitate before attempting to make it move and stand up again.
For he is Lucifer, and he is proud.
---
Sam's morning is almost ideal. Up an hour before dawn, peaceful, his morning routine soothing so he can think about the events of the previous day...it is almost the perfect morning.
Then the emergency call comes in. He's in the middle of after-breakfast cleanup when the phone rings, and even as he is thinking that he's in a good enough mood to handle a call from Gabriel, the message itself brings him to a stop.
Lucifer has returned from his mission badly damaged and may not survive the morning without immediate treatment. (Sam has to pause to think: what was his mission? What on earth could hurt an archangel that badly? They rely on being practically invincible, after all.)
On top of that, Lucifer is refusing to let Raphael treat him. The technicians at the scene cannot fathom why he would refuse Raphael's help, and Raphael has stated that he will not treat Lucifer without his consent.
To put it bluntly: Sam needs to drop whatever he is doing and make his way to Facility Alpha so he can treat Lucifer.
Sam hangs up, and doesn't waste time thinking about it. He can wonder at Lucifer's motives later, at what would - could - damage Lucifer like that, and all of his little trains of thought later.
---
Lucifer finally lets himself rest, and stops trying to move. Raphael won't touch him, and the fate of this vessel is in human hands now. He can close his eyes and wait, listening to the frantic thoughts around him.
Williams is panicking, thinking 'oh god he is going to die and we can't stop it and oh god it's an archangel why won't he let Raphael help him does he have a deathwish he is going to die we have to stop it oh god' and Lucifer wants to smile at how frantic his thoughts are, how afraid he is.
Raphael is unreadable, but he is there and Lucifer can guess at his thoughts, or at least at what he would say: 'Fool. You cannot mend your vessel without my help, and your opinion of the humans is well known to me. What are you planning? What do you gain from this? Do not expect to get away with it, whatever it is. Michael will intervene.' There is nothing new there, in Lucifer's opinion, and that is why Raphael bores him. The anger may help Raphael maintain composure when speaking with Lucifer, but Lucifer has grown tired of it.
He moves on. Other technicians, other humans...most of them have Williams' line of thought. Some wonder about his mission, some wonder at Raphael, and others wonder at why he is here instead of landing at Facility Beta, where he is usually stationed.
Abruptly the tone in thoughts changes, from panic and confusion to relief, and Lucifer opens his eyes. He cannot read this newcomer, and it is not an answer.
Lucifer looks across the roof at Sam Winchester and feels a familiar tug. Yes, his Grace whispers to him. Yes.
This is his vessel, then. The human whose body he would be wearing if not for this ludicrous plan involving technology and metal parts. Lucifer cannot help but try to sit up now, to get a better look at his vessel, the single most important human in this time. As convenient as the cyborg vessel is without its need for consent, he cannot help but want Sam to walk over and tell him Yes, I consent, I am yours.
His Grace wants it, he wants it, and not just because it is the natural order of things: using his proper vessel would allow him to become a better conduit to his Grace, to his being - he would be stronger.
Lucifer forces himself to stop moving, to halt the motion before he can begin it. To close his eyes.
The archangels here, Raphael or Gabriel or both, know who Sam Winchester is. It explains the warding on Sam's forehead, invisible to the human eye but not to his - it explains why he cannot hear Sam Winchester's thoughts.
Lucifer wants to laugh. Oh, what a prize for them to hide here. And here he is, in a condition where he will have no choice but to spend time with the Chief Technician here - Sam.
It's almost as if he planned the whole thing, he thinks, and expects that Raphael will think that as well. It would be best not to correct him, Lucifer decides, as it is easy to predict Raphael's movements when he is suspicious.
There are fingers on his cheek, and he opens his eyes once more, knowing who it is.
Sam Winchester, his vessel, looking down at his broken form.
---
It's a new kind of damage, one Sam isn't used to repairing: cold. Lucifer is freezing to the touch, and Sam draws his hand back quickly before his fingers freeze to the metal. There are thin lines where the metal has been stressed, and he can see where Lucifer's wings are useless, where the metal has simply snapped.
Lucifer's eyes are cold yet bright, and Sam wants to name the color of them yellow instead of gold, but regardless of their color they are certainly aware, and Lucifer is watching him.
Sam is suddenly glad for all the damage Lucifer has sustained, because he is suddenly gripped by fear, the kind of fear Gabriel inspired in him when they first met. It's worse, in a way, because Lucifer is broken, and Sam is still afraid that Lucifer can destroy him regardless of what has happened to his form.
"Remove the wings," Sam says, to break his line of thoughts. He needs to get moving, if he is to save Lucifer, and that reminds him - he whirls around. "Raphael! Why the hell aren't you helping him?"
If Sam dies for swearing at an archangel, he is blaming Gabriel. He has spent too long in that angel's company.
Raphael only narrows his eyes. "Lucifer has forbidden me to heal him. I will honor his wishes."
Which drags a sound that is wrong from Lucifer, and yet Sam still identifies it as a laugh.
"Then get out of the way," Sam tells Raphael instead of reacting to the laugh, and whirls back around. He has work to do, and he needs to remember how to effectively treat frostbite before he can begin work on the organic parts of Lucifer.
"Do not think it will happen," Raphael says clearly. "Begin to speak of it and I will rip your tongue from your head."
Sam is going to get dizzy from turning around so quickly. "What?"
Raphael is staring past him, at Lucifer. Sam doesn't have a clue about what Raphael's talking about. Which means it's more secretive angel business that Sam shouldn't know about. Abruptly Sam wishes Gabriel were here, because he would manage to drop more hints, and give him more information, but -
Work. Yes. The technicians have removed Lucifer's wings, and are loading him onto a stretcher. Time to head inside and begin the major repairs.
Sam studies Lucifer's face once more, then follows after the stretcher, simply looking at the damage and assessing what needs to be done.
If Lucifer watches him back, he doesn't comment on it.
---
Dean's office is bland. Castiel explores it and finds barely any trace of the human who occupies it for most of the day. This is odd, he thinks, and when Dean walks in minutes later in a leather jacket and jeans and the least formal attitude Castiel has ever met -
It is odd. Dean walks in wearing everything that is missing from his office. There are grease-stains on the jeans, he carries himself like a soldier, and he is smiling as he apologizes for his lack of uniform. He mentions his brother.
Castiel decides he likes what he sees.
---
Dean doesn't let Castiel's presence in his office faze him in the slightest as he walks in, instead offering up idle chatter while he wraps his mind around the question of 'why is Castiel here?'
He still doesn't know what to make of Castiel, and he still doesn't know if he should say anything about something Castiel said last time they met. But then Castiel moves over to the window and says something that makes Dean stop.
"You aren't here when you leave this office," Castiel says. "Why?"
"You mean like photos and all that personal decoration crap?"
"Yes."
Dean pauses, debates briefly on an answer he might give to Gabriel simply to be evasive, and decides against it. "I deal with Gabriel on a daily basis, and don't like to give him too much ammunition to use. I brought in a picture once and he spent a day quizzing me about it before I found it the next morning with a mustache drawn on it."
"I don't think I understand you."
Dean eyes Castiel for a moment, then decides to give him a chance.
"Gabriel. If he doesn't want to talk about something, or otherwise keep me from doing my job, he'll do almost anything to distract me. It doesn't always work, but either way I don't want to give him something to use."
"Ah."
Dean can't tell if that means he gets it or not. He decides to let it go, and turns to another subject.
"You said you can't control your emotions, and that you think you're flawed because of it." Dean says, putting it out on the table. He won't pussyfoot around something he wants to ask.
"Yes," Castiel confirms. Damn, that was what Dean thought he heard. "Am I wrong to think that way?"
"I'd say so," Dean says. "Especially if you're trying to imitate a human."
"Imitate?"
"You're the most human-looking angel I've seen yet. Gabriel literally stole your tie, and if you want it back I'll force it out of him. Castiel, you wear a trench-coat. You can't tell me you're not trying to imitate us."
"I'm not an imitation," Castiel says, and pauses, brows furrowing.
"Something you're not allowed to talk to me about?" Dean says as gently as he can. Because if that's the issue he's going to expose some of Gabriel's misdeeds if only to startle Castiel into talking. He's curious, damnit.
"Ah...I have not been told specifically not to talk about my origins. I may speak to you."
Though you probably shouldn't, Dean thinks. "If your superiors give you hell over this, tell them to sent their complaints to me. I'll handle it."
Normally Dean doesn't try to stir up trouble or learn things he shouldn't. Normally if he doesn't want to learn something, Gabriel will tell him regardless just to make trouble for him. But last night Dean learned far more than he probably ever should have, and well - why not go for a little more? Michael's going to be pissed at him either way.
Castiel is silent for a long minute, and Dean wonders if he's going to simply leave, or tell him no.
"I am not an imitation," Castiel says. "I am...in a sense human. Closer to being one than my brothers ever will be. I share his memories."
"Share whose memories?" Dean wonders if he should get a notepad, then decides against it. His memory's good, and he's not that nerdy.
"My...ah..vessel's." Castiel looks at himself. "My flesh. Jimmy."
"Jimmy." Dean says, and he absolutely doesn't know what to do with this. "There's a person in there?"
"Yes. No." Castiel frowns. "I...am not certain if I should go on."
Dean thinks he is beginning to grasp exactly why Gabriel reacted as strongly as he did to Castiel's existence.
"This would be a bad place to stop," he says. "I'm assuming the worst, and if it's not that..."
"I understand," Castiel says, but he doesn't begin to talk quite yet, instead having a seat across from Dean. If Dean didn't know better he would say that Castiel was fidgeting. He watches Castiel adjust his shirt and tie instead and wonders...he expects that there's not a lot of biological parts left in Castiel, especially after Gabriel attacked him, but that doesn't answer his question: is there a person in there? A living one? Some poor bastard who can think and feel but who isn't in control?
In any case, he understands Castiel's reluctance to speak now.
"Jimmy is not awake," Castiel says finally. "He has been sleeping within me since my creation."
"So there is someone in there."
"I would be unable to exist if there weren't someone in here." Castiel says softly. "Before you ask, Jimmy consented to this."
"Consented..? To what? To his body being mangled and controlled and - " Dean breaks himself off before he begins to yell, because Castiel's calm and quiet little speech has angered him. He wants to yell, and to make a point - he wants to go find Gabriel and tell him that he agrees with him.
"His body was already mangled. A pair of angels destroyed the demons who were torturing him and his family but were unable to save anyone except for him. His body and mind were broken, and that is what led him on the path to me." Castiel says.
"They dragged him back and made him an offer, you mean," Dean says.
"In kinder terms than that, yes."
"Do you realize how wrong this sounds? How wrong this entire situation is? A man nearly dies and loses his family and he's turned into...into a meatsuit and you're going around complaining because you can't find inner peace." Dean stares at Castiel and is just...Castiel's not reacting. He's just staring. There's not a trace of shame, or anything - "Damn it!"
There's a long moment of silence before Castiel's face twists in confusion. "I...do not know what to tell you." A pause. "I understand grief. My vessel...Jimmy begged me to give him peace. Respite from his loss; his pain. I gave him sleep. Someday he will wake, and I will help him then as best I can."
Dean honestly doesn't know what to say to that. Castiel is really good at killing the mood.
That's when the door swings open and Gabriel comes in, making a beeline to the desk before flopping himself onto it.
"I need to complain to you," Gabriel says, and waves his hand at Castiel without looking at him. "You, shoo! I need the guidance counselor now."
"Give him his tie," Dean says, after a deep breath. "And then get out. We're in the middle of a serious conversation and you're not invited."
"But Dean - "
"Give him his tie."
Gabriel slides off the desk, giving them both the hairy eye. He raises a hand and the tie appears in it, and Castiel proceeds to stare at him.
Dean exhales. This is going to get worse and worse, isn't it? He's not supposed to know that Gabriel can do that, if Castiel's reaction is anything to go by, and Gabriel's attitude is already terrible today.
"How did you..." Castiel breathes, then stops. "Ah...forgive me."
"It's probably something you can do with a little practice," Gabriel says absently, and drops the tie on Castiel's knee. "Now. Shoo. I need to talk to Dean. You can get your therapy session later."
"Were you eavesdropping?" Dean asks.
"No," Gabriel says. "I was making an educated guess. Honestly, are you always this paranoid? No, wait, you are. Especially if we're talking about me. But this time I wasn't eavesdropping. I don't need to. And I don't want to. Can we move on now?"
"No, we can't. What is with you today, anyways?"
"Lucifer's on the roof which means I have a host of new problems to worry about, Dean. I repeat: Castiel, shoo!"
This time Gabriel snakes his head around to fix Castiel with a piercing stare, and Dean doesn't blame him when he all but runs for the door. The atmosphere's dangerous again, as if Gabriel's about to break out the weaponry, and Dean's half-tempted to pull out a gun, except that he doesn't have one here and it wouldn't work on Gabriel either way.
The door closes behind Castiel, and Gabriel swings back around to face Dean. "Now, to deal with you - "
There are fingers on his forehead before he can blink, and Gabriel is chanting in a language he doesn't recognize.
Dean blinks, and almost jerks his head back, but something in him is sitting up and recognizing a blessing, and the tiny shred of belief in him is basking in the moment.
"What the hell - "
"Nothing demonic about this, Dean," Gabriel whispers, something reverent in his voice, and pulls his fingers back. It's the first time Dean's ever seen him do something truly angelic in all senses of the word, and it's making everything he heard last night come to life in a way it hadn't before.
Gabriel snaps his fingers, and the moment breaks.
"There. You're all protected now. One big privacy curtain around your mind. It's the same kind I put on Sam, so relax. It won't hurt you."
"Privacy curtain?"
"Oh, I haven't told you yet?" Gabriel's slow grin is giving Dean a bad feeling. "Archangels can read minds. And until a few seconds ago, I was in your head. I'm glad you agree with me about Castiel now, by the way."
"You what - !"
As Dean is automatically standing up to yell at him, Gabriel's grin widens and he snaps away, vanishing into thin air.
Dean slowly slumps back in his seat. Gabriel's doing this on purpose, he has to be. For a second Dean considers the idea of Gabriel lying, but he dismisses it. Gabriel wouldn't want to lie about something like that, not when he probably can read minds.
And then there was something else Gabriel said - Lucifer on the roof? That's big. That's way big. Dean should get going, and he should make sure Sam knows what's going on, after he gets the news sorted out.
As he stands up again, a note appears on his desk. Gabriel. He grabs it up and reads it quickly.
Dean,
A few things I didn't mention: 1) the other archangels are probably going to grill you about the new protection. Don't fret, they can't undo it. Not easily, at least, and I'll notice if they try.
2) Lucifer was injured during the mission, and his usual affliction isn't making things any easier on Sam (who is trying to repair him) so I'd stay out of the way of that for now.
3) Michael is coming. Soon.
Dean stares at the note and can't explain it. The last line...he's met Michael before. He's a decent guy, for an archangel.
Yet there's a chill running down his spine, and he can almost picture Gabriel's serious face (he's seen it a few times) speaking the words to him.
Soon.
---
Previous | Next