SPN FIC - Christmas Belongs to the Children
Call this Part 3 of a trilogy, following We Wish You a Merry Christmas and O Angel Who Has Shown Up High -- after a long night of roleplaying in a red-and-white suit, Castiel ponders a change of career.
CHARACTERS: Sam and Castiel
GENRE: Gen (AU curtain!fic, part of the Farm!Verse)
RATING: G
SPOILERS: None
LENGTH: 648 words
CHRISTMAS BELONGS TO THE CHILDREN
By Carol Davis
"I suppose I should feel fulfilled. But I do not."
The angel looked down at his hands, clasped together and resting on the pitted surface of the kitchen table Dean and Sam had rescued from a Salvation Army thrift store in Mason City some months ago. He'd slept, twitching and snoring, for almost seventeen hours, and had awakened bright-eyed and bushy-tailed - but the good humor had lasted for only a few minutes. Since then, he'd been quiet, introspective, and was clad once again in his customary suit and trench coat.
"But, Cas," Sam said. "You brought gifts to all those kids. That's a good thing."
Castiel sighed softly.
"It's a good thing," Sam told him again.
"I was selective," Cas admitted after a minute. "I did not travel indiscriminately. I chose children who would otherwise have received little, or nothing."
"Even better."
"Eleven thousand of them."
"And it's all over the news."
Had been, since early morning. Reports from all over the country, of families awakening to find gaily-wrapped gifts stacked beneath a tree that had not been there the night before, or a simple, bedraggled tree that had somehow grown grand and glorious. It was a Charlie Brown-esque miracle, the newscasters said.
A few of the families were offended, or frightened. Didn't like the idea that someone had invaded their homes during the night.
"I thought perhaps -" Castiel began, then cut himself off. His gaze drifted past Sam, toward the window.
"Cas, man. Come on."
Every once in a while, the brilliant blue eyes that had once belonged to a pious man named Jimmy Novak burned with the full brilliance of heavenly glory. It was a damned intimidating thing, Sam thought: having that kind of intensity focused on you. Looking through you, right on down to the core of who and what you were.
"It's not my place," Cas said. "To do this. To interfere."
"But -?" Sam guessed.
"Next year. I believe I will - disregard the opinions of my brothers. Again." Before Sam could respond, Cas went on, "There are far more than eleven thousand who are in need. I will need to rest beforehand. It takes a great deal of strength to do this. To travel so far, in the course of one night."
Sam smiled across the table. The wattage in Cas's gaze had dimmed a little; he looked a lot less divine, a lot less all-powerful. Looked more, now, like someone who was currently dozing on the couch Castiel had vacated - someone who had spent most of his life caring for others far more than he did for himself. Someone who often said Screw it to rules and laws and the loudly-voiced opinions of others.
"Your brothers helped make a pretty big mess down here," Sam said. "Seems only fair to balance things out a little."
"Then you support my intention."
"To be Santa Cas? I think it's freaking awesome, man. Rock on."
Finally, Castiel seemed to relax a little. He drooped into a more natural posture on the wobbly kitchen chair. Looked more human.
More content with what he'd done, and what he could do.
"I think it's the best thing I've ever heard in my life," Sam told him. "With all the crap that goes on in the world - my God, Cas. To do something this awesome for little kids? I'd be a freakin' reindeer for you. We'll all help you - me, and Dean. Jody. Garth. I'm sure we can find more, if we need them. But… do you think - is this gonna be okay with Him? It isn't exactly in your job description."
Something rustled softly, at the very limit of Sam's hearing. He'd heard it before, under a variety of circumstances, and knew it immediately for what it was: the stirring of wings. Massive, invisible wings, carrying with them the full power of Heaven.
"You're wrong," Castiel replied.
* * * * *
CHARACTERS: Sam and Castiel
GENRE: Gen (AU curtain!fic, part of the Farm!Verse)
RATING: G
SPOILERS: None
LENGTH: 648 words
CHRISTMAS BELONGS TO THE CHILDREN
By Carol Davis
"I suppose I should feel fulfilled. But I do not."
The angel looked down at his hands, clasped together and resting on the pitted surface of the kitchen table Dean and Sam had rescued from a Salvation Army thrift store in Mason City some months ago. He'd slept, twitching and snoring, for almost seventeen hours, and had awakened bright-eyed and bushy-tailed - but the good humor had lasted for only a few minutes. Since then, he'd been quiet, introspective, and was clad once again in his customary suit and trench coat.
"But, Cas," Sam said. "You brought gifts to all those kids. That's a good thing."
Castiel sighed softly.
"It's a good thing," Sam told him again.
"I was selective," Cas admitted after a minute. "I did not travel indiscriminately. I chose children who would otherwise have received little, or nothing."
"Even better."
"Eleven thousand of them."
"And it's all over the news."
Had been, since early morning. Reports from all over the country, of families awakening to find gaily-wrapped gifts stacked beneath a tree that had not been there the night before, or a simple, bedraggled tree that had somehow grown grand and glorious. It was a Charlie Brown-esque miracle, the newscasters said.
A few of the families were offended, or frightened. Didn't like the idea that someone had invaded their homes during the night.
"I thought perhaps -" Castiel began, then cut himself off. His gaze drifted past Sam, toward the window.
"Cas, man. Come on."
Every once in a while, the brilliant blue eyes that had once belonged to a pious man named Jimmy Novak burned with the full brilliance of heavenly glory. It was a damned intimidating thing, Sam thought: having that kind of intensity focused on you. Looking through you, right on down to the core of who and what you were.
"It's not my place," Cas said. "To do this. To interfere."
"But -?" Sam guessed.
"Next year. I believe I will - disregard the opinions of my brothers. Again." Before Sam could respond, Cas went on, "There are far more than eleven thousand who are in need. I will need to rest beforehand. It takes a great deal of strength to do this. To travel so far, in the course of one night."
Sam smiled across the table. The wattage in Cas's gaze had dimmed a little; he looked a lot less divine, a lot less all-powerful. Looked more, now, like someone who was currently dozing on the couch Castiel had vacated - someone who had spent most of his life caring for others far more than he did for himself. Someone who often said Screw it to rules and laws and the loudly-voiced opinions of others.
"Your brothers helped make a pretty big mess down here," Sam said. "Seems only fair to balance things out a little."
"Then you support my intention."
"To be Santa Cas? I think it's freaking awesome, man. Rock on."
Finally, Castiel seemed to relax a little. He drooped into a more natural posture on the wobbly kitchen chair. Looked more human.
More content with what he'd done, and what he could do.
"I think it's the best thing I've ever heard in my life," Sam told him. "With all the crap that goes on in the world - my God, Cas. To do something this awesome for little kids? I'd be a freakin' reindeer for you. We'll all help you - me, and Dean. Jody. Garth. I'm sure we can find more, if we need them. But… do you think - is this gonna be okay with Him? It isn't exactly in your job description."
Something rustled softly, at the very limit of Sam's hearing. He'd heard it before, under a variety of circumstances, and knew it immediately for what it was: the stirring of wings. Massive, invisible wings, carrying with them the full power of Heaven.
"You're wrong," Castiel replied.
* * * * *