AU Fanfiction: Manifest Destiny
Title: Manifest Destiny
AU: Weird West
Rating: R
Author’s Note: If you know Deadlands, you’ll find this somewhat familiar. It’s essentially a mix of the wild west, magic and Christian mythos. In other words, I was bored and had some fun.
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Staring down the barrel of a Colt, Castiel regarded it without a concern. The man holding it was quite dangerous, but no gun could hurt him not even one wielded by a Gunslinger. Dean Winchester was amazingly adept at the magic that came from guns and all things mechanical. The runes and symbols carved into the weapon told him that Dean had been honing his particular magic most of his life and that the Colt was his favorite weapon.
“You’re gonna want to go back out that door, Marshall,” Dean said evenly. “You don’t want to start this fight. ‘Cause I’ll sure as hell end it.”
“Your magic cannot harm me, Gunslinger.” He rustled his wings slightly to emphasize the point. Everyone knew that Angels were impervious to all magic except Blood magic and all the Blood magic users were dead. The High Court of Angels had wiped them out years ago at the end of the War, at the end of Revelation.
At the beginning of the 19th century, Revelation swept over the world in a wave of magic and war. At the time, he had been just a man. His life, like so much of the world, had been typical of the time. He had once had a wife, a daughter and had been making a reasonable living working in a telegraph office in the Illinois territory. It was a happy life, a good life and then he had been Called.
He was reborn in Revelation as an Angel, as Castiel. It was a painful rebirth. Not only did he sprout wings, heavy black feathered wings, but Light was not an easy magic to live with. It burned him that day and still burned in his bones but now it was a familiar presence. He had fought a fifty years long war with it as his sword and shield.
Sam Winchester cocked his rifle, the sound ominous in the now silent saloon. In Lawrence, Kansas The Roadhouse was the only place to gather and it seemed that the town’s population was now watching the standoff between the local boys and the High Court Marshall.
“We don’t want any trouble,” Sam said. “Those posters are lying, we didn’t do anything.”
Castiel cocked his head to one side and frowned at the Winchesters. The High Court had sent him after the pair, who had left a trail of slaughter all the way from west Texas to here. He could easily recall the sharp tang of blood in the air when he had surveyed the last scene in Kansas City. The Winchesters had killed a family of three, flayed them alive and the put their heads on the fence line with mouths open in terrified, silent screams.
“We’ve been here for weeks.” Dean glanced around the saloon, looking for support. “And before, we were in Missouri. Your information is wrong.”
His frown deepened. These reactions and actions made no sense. When he had walked into the saloon, he had expected the Winchesters to start shooting right away. Instead, they had tried to escape without being seen. Only when he had forced the issue had they reached for their guns and now they continued to protest their innocence without any hint of guile. It seemed as if they truly believed their own innocence.
“Then allow me to examine your soul.” Castiel raised his chin. “If you are truly innocent of the charges against you, your soul will reveal it.”
“Like Hell!”
“You can look at mine, Marshall.”
“Sam!”
“Dean, it’s not like we can prove it any other way.”
The brothers glared at each other for a second then Sam raised both eyebrows, shook his head slightly and Dean rolled his eyes dramatically.
“Fine, fine, let the flying monkey poke around in your head. Not like there’s anything in there anyway.”
The brothers continued to glare as Sam put down his weapon and walked around the small card table to stand in front of him. “So, uh, how does this work.”
He reached up and laid two fingers on his forehead. Calling on Light, he dipped into the soul of Sam Winchester. It rose up, pushing against his intrusion and told him quite firmly to get out. There was power there, power that Castiel wasn’t fully familiar with. It wasn’t Gunslinger magic, it was… more and unhappy at being touched by Light.
Castiel stayed, searching through Sam’s soul even as the man staggered and then fell forward onto his knees. His fingers never lost contact with the skin of Sam’s forehead, even though he had broken out in a cold sweat.
“Sam!” Dean pressed the barrel of the Colt to the side of Castiel’s head and pulled the hammer back. “You got three seconds to stop touchin’ him.”
He reached out to take the gun, but Dean was quick. He felt the shift of magic and then Dean was behind him with the barrel still pressing against the back of his head. Gunslinger magic was the quick sort, acting fast and most often violently. The controlled display was rather… impressive.
“There is no deception in your brother’s soul,” Castiel said as he lifted his fingers away from Sam’s forehead and the man dropped onto his hands, breathing hard. “The Light is powerful. He’ll recover in time.”
“You’re a dick,” Dean hissed.
Castiel flexed his wings and pushed the other man away from his as he stepped to the side. A blonde woman was already at Sam’s side, setting down a tray and pushing his hair back with concern.
“I will present this evidence to the High Court. Do not leave Lawrence, Kansas or you will be hunted.” With that, the Angel turned and walked back out the door he had come through a few moments before. He stood on the small porch, looking at the dusty streets of the town. The High Court had been certain it was the Winchesters and they had never been wrong before. Every man they sent him after had been guilty until now. It was… unsettling and in his bones, Castiel felt it was an omen.
He looked up, trying to understand this revelation.
---
AU: Weird West
Rating: R
Author’s Note: If you know Deadlands, you’ll find this somewhat familiar. It’s essentially a mix of the wild west, magic and Christian mythos. In other words, I was bored and had some fun.
---
Staring down the barrel of a Colt, Castiel regarded it without a concern. The man holding it was quite dangerous, but no gun could hurt him not even one wielded by a Gunslinger. Dean Winchester was amazingly adept at the magic that came from guns and all things mechanical. The runes and symbols carved into the weapon told him that Dean had been honing his particular magic most of his life and that the Colt was his favorite weapon.
“You’re gonna want to go back out that door, Marshall,” Dean said evenly. “You don’t want to start this fight. ‘Cause I’ll sure as hell end it.”
“Your magic cannot harm me, Gunslinger.” He rustled his wings slightly to emphasize the point. Everyone knew that Angels were impervious to all magic except Blood magic and all the Blood magic users were dead. The High Court of Angels had wiped them out years ago at the end of the War, at the end of Revelation.
At the beginning of the 19th century, Revelation swept over the world in a wave of magic and war. At the time, he had been just a man. His life, like so much of the world, had been typical of the time. He had once had a wife, a daughter and had been making a reasonable living working in a telegraph office in the Illinois territory. It was a happy life, a good life and then he had been Called.
He was reborn in Revelation as an Angel, as Castiel. It was a painful rebirth. Not only did he sprout wings, heavy black feathered wings, but Light was not an easy magic to live with. It burned him that day and still burned in his bones but now it was a familiar presence. He had fought a fifty years long war with it as his sword and shield.
Sam Winchester cocked his rifle, the sound ominous in the now silent saloon. In Lawrence, Kansas The Roadhouse was the only place to gather and it seemed that the town’s population was now watching the standoff between the local boys and the High Court Marshall.
“We don’t want any trouble,” Sam said. “Those posters are lying, we didn’t do anything.”
Castiel cocked his head to one side and frowned at the Winchesters. The High Court had sent him after the pair, who had left a trail of slaughter all the way from west Texas to here. He could easily recall the sharp tang of blood in the air when he had surveyed the last scene in Kansas City. The Winchesters had killed a family of three, flayed them alive and the put their heads on the fence line with mouths open in terrified, silent screams.
“We’ve been here for weeks.” Dean glanced around the saloon, looking for support. “And before, we were in Missouri. Your information is wrong.”
His frown deepened. These reactions and actions made no sense. When he had walked into the saloon, he had expected the Winchesters to start shooting right away. Instead, they had tried to escape without being seen. Only when he had forced the issue had they reached for their guns and now they continued to protest their innocence without any hint of guile. It seemed as if they truly believed their own innocence.
“Then allow me to examine your soul.” Castiel raised his chin. “If you are truly innocent of the charges against you, your soul will reveal it.”
“Like Hell!”
“You can look at mine, Marshall.”
“Sam!”
“Dean, it’s not like we can prove it any other way.”
The brothers glared at each other for a second then Sam raised both eyebrows, shook his head slightly and Dean rolled his eyes dramatically.
“Fine, fine, let the flying monkey poke around in your head. Not like there’s anything in there anyway.”
The brothers continued to glare as Sam put down his weapon and walked around the small card table to stand in front of him. “So, uh, how does this work.”
He reached up and laid two fingers on his forehead. Calling on Light, he dipped into the soul of Sam Winchester. It rose up, pushing against his intrusion and told him quite firmly to get out. There was power there, power that Castiel wasn’t fully familiar with. It wasn’t Gunslinger magic, it was… more and unhappy at being touched by Light.
Castiel stayed, searching through Sam’s soul even as the man staggered and then fell forward onto his knees. His fingers never lost contact with the skin of Sam’s forehead, even though he had broken out in a cold sweat.
“Sam!” Dean pressed the barrel of the Colt to the side of Castiel’s head and pulled the hammer back. “You got three seconds to stop touchin’ him.”
He reached out to take the gun, but Dean was quick. He felt the shift of magic and then Dean was behind him with the barrel still pressing against the back of his head. Gunslinger magic was the quick sort, acting fast and most often violently. The controlled display was rather… impressive.
“There is no deception in your brother’s soul,” Castiel said as he lifted his fingers away from Sam’s forehead and the man dropped onto his hands, breathing hard. “The Light is powerful. He’ll recover in time.”
“You’re a dick,” Dean hissed.
Castiel flexed his wings and pushed the other man away from his as he stepped to the side. A blonde woman was already at Sam’s side, setting down a tray and pushing his hair back with concern.
“I will present this evidence to the High Court. Do not leave Lawrence, Kansas or you will be hunted.” With that, the Angel turned and walked back out the door he had come through a few moments before. He stood on the small porch, looking at the dusty streets of the town. The High Court had been certain it was the Winchesters and they had never been wrong before. Every man they sent him after had been guilty until now. It was… unsettling and in his bones, Castiel felt it was an omen.
He looked up, trying to understand this revelation.
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