Angel on His Shoulder (Ch. 3)
Title: Angel on His Shoulder (Ch. 3)
Author: ZanneS
Genre: RPF/AU/Gen
Rating: G
Characters: Jensen, Castiel, extended members of Jensen's family
Summary: Jensen may have been kissed by the Devil, but Castiel understands that ice cream makes everything better.
Author's Notes: Thanks to moony_mistress for betaing! This story will be comprised of a series of vignettes of Jensen and Castiel at different ages as their relationship develops over the years.
Disclaimer: Jensen and his family own themselves, Kripke owns Castiel.
Jensen lay in bed, covered in small beige spots that barely hid the red splotches beneath, and did his best to do what his momma had told him. But it was so hard not to itch, even though that was the only thing he was able to do right now. She’d even made him put on the baby mittens without any fingers so he couldn’t dig in and scratch like Buster did next door when he got fleas. Jensen wasn’t lucky enough to just have fleas though, so he couldn’t ask for a collar and go outside and play like he wanted. Instead, Jensen entertained himself the only way that came to mind, and imagined his death.
According to Josh, chicken pox was the mark of the Devil. He had Jensen terrified that he was going to be kidnapped in the middle of the night to be added to Satan’s collection of lumpy, bumpy, itchy kids trapped in Hell’s basement.
Jensen didn’t even know Hell had a basement, until Josh told him so in graphic detail. He did wonder if Hell’s basement was carpeted and had a pool table, like Mrs. MacAllister’s did down the block. Jensen was allowed to drink soda in Mrs. MacAllister’s basement.
That would be kind of cool, but Jensen hoped the Devil liked Coke rather than Pepsi.
It was after dinner and his momma had just taken away his tray, ruffling his hair since kisses were contagious, and Jensen was nervously eyeing the darkening corners of his room. It was lucky that Josh had warned him that saying anything to his parents about it only sped up the process, since then the Devil would know he’d missed the little boy hiding upstairs on their street, and be sure to collect him as soon as possible.
“Is your mother gone?”
Jensen muffled a shriek into his blanket at the sound of the voice coming from under his bed, using the flannel fabric as some sort of shield. He heard something grunting its way out from under the comforter’s overhang, and a surge of shadow swelled out of the corner of his eye before Castiel’s tousled hair appeared over the edge of the bed, dotted with dustballs.
Castiel’s hair was soon followed by Castiel’s eyes, and then his body, thank goodness.
Jensen was relieved to have company. Maybe Castiel could say goodbye to his momma for him after Jensen was dragged away.
“Your mother was in here for a very long time,” Castiel observed. “She doesn’t usually take so much time to wish you goodnight.”
Jensen saw Castiel’s nose twitch in his direction, but the little boy didn’t offer any explanation about why he was there - or why he had been under Jensen’s bed, which was a little creepy. Jensen assumed Castiel’s arrival had to do with his imminent doom, since Castiel always seemed to show up when Jensen needed him, like when he accidentally dropped his cake at Milo’s birthday party, or when Henry Sheldon made Jensen cry by ripping up the picture he’d drawn for his momma in kindergarten.
Castiel was his best friend, and that’s what best friends did.
“Do you know anything about Hell?” Jensen asked, reluctantly lowering his blanket.
Castiel blinked at him, careful and measured, and Jensen’s fingers jerked inside his mittens as he fought against the urge to scratch.
“I would not suggest going there,” Castiel finally said.
Jensen plucked awkwardly at the blanket with his mittened hands, trying to look his most piteous, lower lip trembling as he admitted, “I won’t have a choice. Look!” He held out his arm, which was spotted with the tiny, itchy blisters that marked his fate. “I’ve been kissed by the Devil.”
Jensen hoped he looked brave.
“He’s coming to put me in his basement with the others - add me to his collection.” Jensen’s voice lowered to a horrified, yet gleeful whisper, as he added, “I think he even kissed my butt!” and wriggled against the sheets to scratch a particularly bothersome spot.
Castiel’s expression was hard to decipher. Jensen didn’t know whether he looked confused or surprised, as all of Castiel’s expressions tended to look pretty much alike. Instead, Jensen got another slow blink and a, “What?”
“Josh told me.”
Jensen tried for brave, yet delicate, and lay back against his plumped pillows. Maybe Castiel would go downstairs and get him some ice cream.
“Lucifer has no interest in collecting sick children,” Castiel told him. “Your brother was misinformed.”
It took a minute, but Jensen began to suspect his ice cream might not be coming, and that Josh deserved a kick in the shin. A really hard kick.
“You appear disappointed.”
Jensen merely rolled over and mumbled something unintelligible into his pillow, cheeks flushed pink from more than just fever.
Castiel acted as if that made sense, and when Jensen blinked, he was gone. He was back a moment later when Jensen’s eyes were starting to flutter closed, holding a small bowl with a scoop of chocolate ice cream heaped in the middle.
“Your brother was fixing himself a snack,” Castiel said. As if to verify Castiel’s claim, Jensen heard Josh’s outraged shout not a second later. “But you need it more than he does.”
Jensen grabbed the bowl out of Castiel’s hands, and kindly scooted over to make some space on his bed. With a jerk of his head and ice cream already smeared over his chin, he indicated that Castiel should sit beside him.
Castiel carefully crawled onto the bed next to him, settling on top of the blanket.
“You want some?” Jensen asked, thinking it only fair to share in the spoils. When Castiel didn’t reply, he held out a spoonful of ice cream gripped awkwardly in his mittened hand, ignoring the path of brown drips that now dotted the covers. “Try it. It’s good!”
Castiel couldn’t refuse once Jensen jammed the spoon in the general vicinity of his mouth, clacking sharply against his teeth. He swallowed the treat with barely a murmur, his face now just as smeared as Jensen’s.
“Good, huh?” Jensen scraped some more from the bottom of the bowl, mumbling through the sticky sweetness, “You wanna stay over? We can watch cartoons all day tomorrow!”
“If you wish for the company,” Castiel agreed, leaning stiffly back against Jensen’s headboard.
Jensen fell asleep with Castiel’s rigid form still propped up beside him, comforted by the solid presence of his friend in the dark - even if the Devil wasn’t going to make an appearance that evening.
It was easier to fall asleep knowing he was there.
Jensen woke the next morning to find Castiel in the same position, eyes already trained on the blank television Jensen’s momma had brought into his room.
Ch. 4 -> http://zannes.livejournal.com/117886.html