Fanfic: Chthonic Seal, or, How Dean Learned to Stop Worrying and Accept the Insanity [SPN]
Note: I originally wrote this under my other journal, but since I'm moving all my fannish stuff over here, it makes sense to mirror it here as well. Too many RL people know about the other journal anyway.
Posted here 1/10/14 and backdated to the original publish date.
Title: Chthonic Seal, or, How Dean Learned to Stop Worrying and Accept the Insanity
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Crack/Humour
Word Count: 1620
Summary: Castiel recruits Dean to help stop another seal from breaking. It's not what Dean expects.
Dean blinked at Castiel. "You're serious." Castiel didn't say anything, just tilted his head slightly, looking at Dean expectantly. Dean put a hand over his eyes and sighed. "Of course you are. Why do I even bother asking."
"You must prevent this seal from breaking, Dean, and your time to do so is limited."
"Yeah, okay, but, how can you be sure? I mean, yeah, they're creepy little fuckers, but they've been around forever and the world hasn't been sucked into Hell yet."
"Surely you've noticed the increased concentrations of them in many of the areas you've visited on a hunt." Castiel stepped forward, gaze urgent. "Wherever these creatures are gathered, evil follows."
"Cas, seriously, though: lawn gnomes?"
Castiel's gaze flicked around the room, then back to Dean. "What you call lawn gnomes are in fact statues imbued with the essence of goblins. We believe they were the result of an early attempt by demons to...more subtly interact with humanity, by creating these creatures and convincing unsuspecting humans to purchase them as protectors. Certainly such practices work; many of the more questionable fads of your culture show that."
Dean paused for a moment, connecting the words 'convincing', 'purchase', and 'questionable fads', and coming up with a conclusion that managed to make sense and be completely disturbing at the same time.
"Are you telling me that demons are responsible for inventing marketing?" Explained a lot, actually, when he thought about it.
"We suspect there may be a second, similar attempt under way as we speak." Castiel's gaze darkened, and he fairly spat out the next words. "Precious Moments."
Dean thought longingly of the bottle of Jack in his duffel.
"Okay, so...demons are responsible for marketing, lawn gnomes are harbingers of the apocalypse, and Precious Moments...well, okay, yeah, I can see that because those big-eyed brats are also fucking creepy. Right." Dean really wished Sam had stayed in, instead of fucking off somewhere with Ruby. It wasn't right that he had to suffer this weirdness alone. "So. Seal. How do we prevent it from breaking? Smash all the lawn gnomes in town before the ritual can take place?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Dean," Castiel said, sternly. Dean's eyebrows shot up, because hey, this whole thing was ridiculous as far as he was concerned, but for once he managed to keep his mouth shut. "That would be far too time consuming. No, in order to save the seal, we must destroy both the gnome king, Gob, and his weapon."
"His weapon? What is it, an enchanted trowel? Mystic fertilizer?"
Castiel pinned Dean with a glare that made him simultaneously want to erase his last sentence and mock the whole thing some more. Especially this Gob dude; anything with the name Gob was practically sitting up and begging to be made fun of.
"A magic sword," Castiel clarified. "With it, the demons can raise the gnome army, bring the statues to life."
"Yeah? And then what do they do? Kick us in the shins?" Dean couldn't exactly picture something that came up to his knees being a massive threat to humanity. Also, lawn gnomes.
"No. They will be used as infantry in Lilith's demon army, and they will slaughter everything in their path. Their power will only increase if all the seals are broken, and Lucifer rises."
“Okay, yeah, that could be a problem.” Dean wasn't sure if he was agreeing, or just resigning himself to the insanity of it all. After all, it wasn't as if he could say 'nope, not saving this seal, it's all just too weird for me!'
Castiel took a step back, gaze still fixed on Dean. "Meet me at ten o'clock at 1847 Lamport Road. Bring an axe."
Dean rubbed his hand over his eyes, and Castiel, sneaky bastard that he was, took advantage of it by disappearing on him.
It might have been insane, but by ten o'clock, Dean was waiting outside the chain link fence surrounding 1847 Lamport Road, trying to blend into the background and hoping no one noticed the guy in the leather jacket with the battleaxe. Innocent bystander plus battleaxe was a look even he couldn't pull off, not even with really really drunk sorority girls. Dean knew, because he'd tried. Thankfully, the cops flagged down by said really drunk sorority girls were all too ready to believe they'd gotten hysterical over seeing some poor guy just trying to change a flat tire in a badly-lit stretch of road. Dean had washed, waxed, and meticulously detailed every bit of his baby the very next day to make up for the indignity he'd visited on her by puncturing one of her tires to back up his story.
A rustle of feathers and a soft breeze of displaced air announced Castiel's arrival.
"Good, you brought the axe." Castiel was staring at the building, not at Dean, but Dean had the weirdest feeling the angel could see him just as well as ever.
"Uh huh. So where is this Gob guy?"
"Inside. Dean," Castiel's glance flicked over towards Dean, eyes unreadable, "be cautious. He has more power than the average of his kind, and it has only grown of late. Gob must be beheaded, and his own sword driven through his heart to destroy it. They will be on us quickly, once our presence is detected. You may only have one chance." Castiel looked down at the padlock and chain on the gate; they unlocked and fell away seemingly of their own accord. "Let's go. I'll take the roof."
"Can have the freakin' roof," Dean muttered. He slipped through the gate, and jogged quickly across the asphalt to the warehouse door. Cas' mojo, or just lazy evil bastards, he didn't know, but the door was unlocked. Dean paused, got no sense of a trap - freaky demon powers he might not have, but he had good instincts, and decades of experience gone subliminal - and eased his way in. Weird light and chanting was as good as the yellow brick road and he found his target quickly enough.
The target's appearance didn't surprise him, just a generic garden gnome. The voice did but he'd worry about that later. The animate gnome king was in the middle of a circle of inanimate lawn gnomes, standing behind a gnome-sized altar on which lay a gnome-sized sword, chanting something in a weird, archaic-sounding language. For a freaky second there, Dean thought he saw one of the lawn gnomes begin to shift slightly.
There was a group of four demons standing just ahead of Dean; they seemed distracted by the ceremony. Dean was trying to work out how to either take them out, or get around them when Castiel dropped from nowhere, burning out two demons at the same time, and shouting "Now, Dean!"
Dean threw himself into the ritual circle, took two quick steps to the centre, and swung the axe fast and true.
"I say!" had probably never been the last words of anything he'd killed before, but some part of his brain supposed there was always a first time. Dean slammed the butt of the axe haft into a demon's head with an awkward but effective backward thrust, and grabbed the sword up from the altar. At gnome scale, it fit his hand like a knife. A quick flare of light from the edge of his vision told him Castiel had gotten the fourth demon. Dropping the axe, Dean drove the sword down hard into Gob's chest, hoping that garden gnomes possessed basic humanoid anatomy. It sucked to be surrounded and have to try to find the right place to stab.
Dean figured that he'd gotten the sword through the heart all right when the blade began to heat up, then bubbled, and finally melted messily over the remains of the gnome king. Once the blade was gone, Gob crumbled into tiny pieces, except for one bit with an eye on it that rolled a little farther. That just lay there, wide-eyed and deceptively innocent, looking at him reproachfully. Dean made a sound of disgust, shoved himself to his feet, and stomped the eye into powder under his boot.
"Well done, Dean," Castiel was at his shoulder again, examining their surroundings with an intense stare. Not for the first time, Dean wondered what exactly the angel saw when he did that. He was pretty damn sure it wasn't just dark, ageing warehouse. “With their king dead, the gnomes are now no more than statues.” The angel focused on Dean again. "You saved a seal tonight, and prevented the demons' army from increasing further. You should be pleased."
"Yeah, I guess," Dean admitted, rubbing the sole of his boot against the concrete floor to get rid of as much lingering gnome king dust as possible. "Still can't believe that that thing had all that power."
"It did," Castiel affirmed, "and it gained more every day, every hour, and would only have continued to do so had you not destroyed it. You've encountered entities that need to be believed in to have power. There are some that only need attention paid to them. Gob was one such creature."
Dean thought about what he'd just killed and how often he'd complained about how stupid it was and how he used to flick off the television every time he saw it. Thought about all the people who saw it and did the same thing, or thought it was cute, or laughed about it. He looked down at the mess of plaster and metal on the warehouse floor, and shook his head. Kill a travel agency's mascot, save a seal. Who knew?
"I always told Sammy that little bastard was evil."
Posted here 1/10/14 and backdated to the original publish date.
Title: Chthonic Seal, or, How Dean Learned to Stop Worrying and Accept the Insanity
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Crack/Humour
Word Count: 1620
Summary: Castiel recruits Dean to help stop another seal from breaking. It's not what Dean expects.
Dean blinked at Castiel. "You're serious." Castiel didn't say anything, just tilted his head slightly, looking at Dean expectantly. Dean put a hand over his eyes and sighed. "Of course you are. Why do I even bother asking."
"You must prevent this seal from breaking, Dean, and your time to do so is limited."
"Yeah, okay, but, how can you be sure? I mean, yeah, they're creepy little fuckers, but they've been around forever and the world hasn't been sucked into Hell yet."
"Surely you've noticed the increased concentrations of them in many of the areas you've visited on a hunt." Castiel stepped forward, gaze urgent. "Wherever these creatures are gathered, evil follows."
"Cas, seriously, though: lawn gnomes?"
Castiel's gaze flicked around the room, then back to Dean. "What you call lawn gnomes are in fact statues imbued with the essence of goblins. We believe they were the result of an early attempt by demons to...more subtly interact with humanity, by creating these creatures and convincing unsuspecting humans to purchase them as protectors. Certainly such practices work; many of the more questionable fads of your culture show that."
Dean paused for a moment, connecting the words 'convincing', 'purchase', and 'questionable fads', and coming up with a conclusion that managed to make sense and be completely disturbing at the same time.
"Are you telling me that demons are responsible for inventing marketing?" Explained a lot, actually, when he thought about it.
"We suspect there may be a second, similar attempt under way as we speak." Castiel's gaze darkened, and he fairly spat out the next words. "Precious Moments."
Dean thought longingly of the bottle of Jack in his duffel.
"Okay, so...demons are responsible for marketing, lawn gnomes are harbingers of the apocalypse, and Precious Moments...well, okay, yeah, I can see that because those big-eyed brats are also fucking creepy. Right." Dean really wished Sam had stayed in, instead of fucking off somewhere with Ruby. It wasn't right that he had to suffer this weirdness alone. "So. Seal. How do we prevent it from breaking? Smash all the lawn gnomes in town before the ritual can take place?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Dean," Castiel said, sternly. Dean's eyebrows shot up, because hey, this whole thing was ridiculous as far as he was concerned, but for once he managed to keep his mouth shut. "That would be far too time consuming. No, in order to save the seal, we must destroy both the gnome king, Gob, and his weapon."
"His weapon? What is it, an enchanted trowel? Mystic fertilizer?"
Castiel pinned Dean with a glare that made him simultaneously want to erase his last sentence and mock the whole thing some more. Especially this Gob dude; anything with the name Gob was practically sitting up and begging to be made fun of.
"A magic sword," Castiel clarified. "With it, the demons can raise the gnome army, bring the statues to life."
"Yeah? And then what do they do? Kick us in the shins?" Dean couldn't exactly picture something that came up to his knees being a massive threat to humanity. Also, lawn gnomes.
"No. They will be used as infantry in Lilith's demon army, and they will slaughter everything in their path. Their power will only increase if all the seals are broken, and Lucifer rises."
“Okay, yeah, that could be a problem.” Dean wasn't sure if he was agreeing, or just resigning himself to the insanity of it all. After all, it wasn't as if he could say 'nope, not saving this seal, it's all just too weird for me!'
Castiel took a step back, gaze still fixed on Dean. "Meet me at ten o'clock at 1847 Lamport Road. Bring an axe."
Dean rubbed his hand over his eyes, and Castiel, sneaky bastard that he was, took advantage of it by disappearing on him.
It might have been insane, but by ten o'clock, Dean was waiting outside the chain link fence surrounding 1847 Lamport Road, trying to blend into the background and hoping no one noticed the guy in the leather jacket with the battleaxe. Innocent bystander plus battleaxe was a look even he couldn't pull off, not even with really really drunk sorority girls. Dean knew, because he'd tried. Thankfully, the cops flagged down by said really drunk sorority girls were all too ready to believe they'd gotten hysterical over seeing some poor guy just trying to change a flat tire in a badly-lit stretch of road. Dean had washed, waxed, and meticulously detailed every bit of his baby the very next day to make up for the indignity he'd visited on her by puncturing one of her tires to back up his story.
A rustle of feathers and a soft breeze of displaced air announced Castiel's arrival.
"Good, you brought the axe." Castiel was staring at the building, not at Dean, but Dean had the weirdest feeling the angel could see him just as well as ever.
"Uh huh. So where is this Gob guy?"
"Inside. Dean," Castiel's glance flicked over towards Dean, eyes unreadable, "be cautious. He has more power than the average of his kind, and it has only grown of late. Gob must be beheaded, and his own sword driven through his heart to destroy it. They will be on us quickly, once our presence is detected. You may only have one chance." Castiel looked down at the padlock and chain on the gate; they unlocked and fell away seemingly of their own accord. "Let's go. I'll take the roof."
"Can have the freakin' roof," Dean muttered. He slipped through the gate, and jogged quickly across the asphalt to the warehouse door. Cas' mojo, or just lazy evil bastards, he didn't know, but the door was unlocked. Dean paused, got no sense of a trap - freaky demon powers he might not have, but he had good instincts, and decades of experience gone subliminal - and eased his way in. Weird light and chanting was as good as the yellow brick road and he found his target quickly enough.
The target's appearance didn't surprise him, just a generic garden gnome. The voice did but he'd worry about that later. The animate gnome king was in the middle of a circle of inanimate lawn gnomes, standing behind a gnome-sized altar on which lay a gnome-sized sword, chanting something in a weird, archaic-sounding language. For a freaky second there, Dean thought he saw one of the lawn gnomes begin to shift slightly.
There was a group of four demons standing just ahead of Dean; they seemed distracted by the ceremony. Dean was trying to work out how to either take them out, or get around them when Castiel dropped from nowhere, burning out two demons at the same time, and shouting "Now, Dean!"
Dean threw himself into the ritual circle, took two quick steps to the centre, and swung the axe fast and true.
"I say!" had probably never been the last words of anything he'd killed before, but some part of his brain supposed there was always a first time. Dean slammed the butt of the axe haft into a demon's head with an awkward but effective backward thrust, and grabbed the sword up from the altar. At gnome scale, it fit his hand like a knife. A quick flare of light from the edge of his vision told him Castiel had gotten the fourth demon. Dropping the axe, Dean drove the sword down hard into Gob's chest, hoping that garden gnomes possessed basic humanoid anatomy. It sucked to be surrounded and have to try to find the right place to stab.
Dean figured that he'd gotten the sword through the heart all right when the blade began to heat up, then bubbled, and finally melted messily over the remains of the gnome king. Once the blade was gone, Gob crumbled into tiny pieces, except for one bit with an eye on it that rolled a little farther. That just lay there, wide-eyed and deceptively innocent, looking at him reproachfully. Dean made a sound of disgust, shoved himself to his feet, and stomped the eye into powder under his boot.
"Well done, Dean," Castiel was at his shoulder again, examining their surroundings with an intense stare. Not for the first time, Dean wondered what exactly the angel saw when he did that. He was pretty damn sure it wasn't just dark, ageing warehouse. “With their king dead, the gnomes are now no more than statues.” The angel focused on Dean again. "You saved a seal tonight, and prevented the demons' army from increasing further. You should be pleased."
"Yeah, I guess," Dean admitted, rubbing the sole of his boot against the concrete floor to get rid of as much lingering gnome king dust as possible. "Still can't believe that that thing had all that power."
"It did," Castiel affirmed, "and it gained more every day, every hour, and would only have continued to do so had you not destroyed it. You've encountered entities that need to be believed in to have power. There are some that only need attention paid to them. Gob was one such creature."
Dean thought about what he'd just killed and how often he'd complained about how stupid it was and how he used to flick off the television every time he saw it. Thought about all the people who saw it and did the same thing, or thought it was cute, or laughed about it. He looked down at the mess of plaster and metal on the warehouse floor, and shook his head. Kill a travel agency's mascot, save a seal. Who knew?
"I always told Sammy that little bastard was evil."