Fic: in the space between
Nov. 7th, 2010 01:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mf_luder_xfOk, obviously, this fic has been Joss'd to Hell and back (lol, especially the Crowley bit), but seeing the Campbell's dungeon where they keep the monsters reminded me I even wrote it. So I figured I'd repost. Because it's unlikely you'll get any more fic from me until Christmas time due to school and my thesis. D:
Title: in the space between
Author: MF Luder
Pairing: gen, tiny reference to canon Dean/Lisa
Keywords: episode coda (5x22)
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1800
Warnings: None
Spoilers: 5x22 “Swan Song”
Disclaimer: All characters herein belong to Kripke and Co. and the CW.
Archive: My LJ, anywhere else, please let me know
Summary: Castiel is patient.
Feedback: skin.walker2y5@gmail.com
Author’s Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
haruslex 's We Know what Cas Did Last Summer comment meme. First posted here.
Cas understood his current predicament was his own fault; he'd allowed himself to relax from constant vigilance. It was inevitable that the high came crashing down and he'd allowed his new status to go to his head.
He'd taken to visiting Dean when he could. He didn't know Castiel did, of course. Castiel hadn't meant to. He was content to return to Heaven and straighten out the mess left by a chaotic hierarchy suffering the loss of two archangels, his Father still missing. He glanced down from time to time to assure himself Dean was surviving, if not thriving. He'd seen Sam, too, several days after he'd been released from the Cage, standing outside Dean's window. When he didn't reveal himself to Dean, Cas took his cue and left Dean to acclimate to his “apple-pie” life. It was the least he could do.
But as the year progressed, Castiel had found himself feeling a certain loss that he couldn't place. He didn't long to be human again; that experience had been educational – and he believed it made him better equipped for his current task – but incredibly uncomfortable. Angels weren't meant to be human. Certainly not the way he had fallen. Even Lucifer had been allowed to retain his grace, tainted as it was.
And so he found himself visiting the human he had once called “friend”. He'd wait until Dean was gone. He heard Dean's prayers – he heard Sam's, too – but he kept his distance, though occasionally they gnawed at something inside him. But when Dean was gone Castiel would go to the house. He'd take the tarp off the Impala and drag his fingers along its black sides. He'd replace it and touch the handle of the law mower Dean used to cut the grass. Then he'd open the box where Dean kept his father's jacket and he'd simply stare at it. Sometimes he'd visit when Lisa and Ben were home and he watched their interactions, determining them suitable companions for Dean. Not that he had a say – or would vocalize such an opinion – but he was nonetheless content that Dean had a good life, that he was recovering; that some day, he might even be happy. That he might stop wandering out into the back yard and looking up at the heavens and calling his brother and the angel's names.
Unfortunately, despite knowing hunters were lurking about also watching over Dean, he misjudged them. Using Enochian sigils, they captured him in Dean's garage a month ago. He noticed Sam wasn't with them, but the sigils were clearly ones he'd taught to Sam and Dean in later days.
Of course, he hadn't noticed the specific sigils until he came to in a circle of holy fire in the middle of a dark concrete room. Formerly a fallout shelter – if the radioactive sign on the other side of the door was any indication – the room offered no sprinkler system, no pipes, and no other objects he could use to quench the fire or even move across the line of fire. Everything in the room was built from the outer walls. None of the cages were freestanding.
For cages were indeed what the tiny additional rooms were. Several housed supernatural creatures; others waited for new occupants. He'd received a few jeers the first few days he was trapped. None of them knew what he was, though they were clearly intimidated by him, one supernatural creature sensing the power of a greater supernatural being. Hence, the taunts, to cover their fear. All of them were rudimentary beasts or formerly human. A wendigo, a rougarou, a ghost. All used to supply the thing that wasn't Samuel Campbell with power and sustenance.
He admitted to himself, finally, after three interrogations by “Samuel” that he couldn't figure him out. It was a good spell that kept an archangel from knowing what kind of creature he was. Something only another archangel, a god, or a very powerful demon could cast.
It was this that he considered for the time he was kept in the bunker. He didn't sense Crowley on Samuel and he doubted the demon would go back on the deal they'd sealed on their last meeting, only two Earth months ago. Castiel stuck and impotent might interest the demon, but Crowley had everything he wanted, with an archangel's support.
So he ruled out Crowley, but that didn't mean it wasn't a competing demon. And an archangel or god could cover its scent even as they covered Samuel's true nature. Nonetheless, Castiel had a comprehensive list he planned on pursuing once he was free.
Unfortunately, he was no closer to that than the day he was captured and placed here. The fire could rage indefinitely unless an earthquake buckled the structure that was covered in anti-angel sigils which kept Castiel from using his powers to bring the roof crashing on his head. The cocky hunter, the older one, had nearly made a fatal error by stepping too close one day while joining in the interrogations and Castiel had been only a nanosecond too late before Samuel had hauled the other man out of reach. None of them had made that mistake since.
It frustrated him, but Castiel was patient. His only concern was, if this was the work of an archangel, how Heaven was getting along in his absence. He'd been able to establish Balthazar as a second in command, and the angel was unlikely to have fallen into a similar trap since his brother never left Heaven – certainly not to the jurisdiction of hunters – but he wasn't an archangel and thus subject to the wrath Raphael had once showered down on Castiel.
Then one day, the door opened and Samuel and the woman came in, dragging a female-shaped figure with a hood over her head and her hands shackled. Once they were in the room, the hood was shoved in Samuel's pocket and Castiel saw the woman to actually be an attractive djinn.
“Get her in a cell,” Samuel barked out.
Castiel watched the proceedings with a heightened level of interest, not even flinching when the djinn hissed at him like a cat. The two creatures that had joined them since Castiel had been trapped here had done the same thing. Even in the holy fire, his grace was not diminished.
“Will you tell me today how to get your grace?” Samuel asked, leering at him.
Castiel simply stared at him. This happened every day. He and Samuel were at a stalemate: Castiel couldn't escape, but nor did he have to give Samuel any information. He had no need for food or drink, wasn't susceptible to human forms of psychological techniques, and no creature could inflict harm on him worse than he'd been dealt by Heaven two years ago. Samuel, for his part, couldn't risk reaching across the holy fire divide to get what he wanted.
He'd tried to suggest something would happen to Sam if Castiel did not tell him what he wanted to know, but Castiel had seen Sam was changed. His bout in Hell might have been brief – only weeks instead of years like Dean – but something was different. Castiel hadn't taken the time to decipher it and was now regretting that inaction. But whether it was remnants of the demon blood or lingering power transferred from Lucifer, he knew Sam had nothing to fear, not from an angel, even. He suspected Samuel knew it as well, or he would have made good on his threat already.
Samuel shifted, bald head reflecting in the fire light. “I think you'll find, I'll soon have something to bargain with. Dean's not as safe as you might think, and what about his pretty new family? Practically perfect in every way...” Samuel taunted.
Castiel didn't allow his concern show on his face, just one more reason he was grateful for having shed his humanity. Facial ticks couldn't give him away.
The creature laughed and then said, “Come on, Gwen, let's go find Sammy,” before slamming the door behind them.
A moment after the door shut, the air was pierced with a high-pitched laugh coming from the djinn's cage.
“Looky here! Do you boys know what this is?”
She seemed to be addressing the other creatures in the bunker who all delighted in her display of dominance. Castiel was merely bored by it.
“These hunters got themselves a real live angel! That's what you are, aren't you, pretty boy? A righteous angel of the Lord, captured in an underground bunker by some humans. Fitting end considering what you nearly brought down on our little world.”
Castiel was curious how this djinn knew about the dealings of angels, but he dismissed it. Instead, he focused on what had intrigued him since the door had opened.
“You've recently fed,” he said.
She bared her teeth at him, moving to put her hands on the bars of the cell before drawing them back quickly. The metal had been coated with lamb's blood.
“I have. What's it to you, angel?”
He made no indication of a response and he watched as her smirk turned slightly disgruntled.
“I fed on a man called Dean Winchester. You know him, angel? You should. Wasn't he supposed to be your go-to man for the apocalypse? Came up a little short in the end, but that doesn't really matter. I'm not the only one gunning for him, you know. There's a bounty on his head, practically, amongst us monsters.”
“Why?” he asked, curious.
She grinned at him. “You become the center of the apocalypse that never happened? Let's just say, people pay attention. On the one hand, you'd think we'd be grateful because, hey, the world didn't end, right?” She smirks and leans closer to the bars. The hunters will have to come down and slick up the bars on a daily basis or she'll be able to get out. “Not the case, pretty boy. We're loose now, something the apocalypse shook up. Lucifer let us all go, you know. Not too fond of the man himself, but, hey, freedom's freedom. I owe it to him to shake things up a bit. So do the others. Dean's top of our list.”
She bared her teeth and he felt an irrational surge of anger. She was lucky his powers were in check.
He shrugged his shoulders and turned away from her, back towards the door. He'd gotten the information he wanted. Dean would be there soon. It was unfortunate he wouldn't get to have the life he wanted, deep in his heart, but Castiel hoped once he dealt with the latest threat, that he could return that to Dean. He deserved at least that much.
In the mean time, Castiel waited. Dean wouldn't know right away, but soon enough he'd realize something was wrong with Samuel, perhaps even recognize Castiel's silence less for the lack of a response and more for the inability to respond.
Castiel would be patient; he'd wait for Dean, for as long as it took.
Title: in the space between
Author: MF Luder
Pairing: gen, tiny reference to canon Dean/Lisa
Keywords: episode coda (5x22)
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1800
Warnings: None
Spoilers: 5x22 “Swan Song”
Disclaimer: All characters herein belong to Kripke and Co. and the CW.
Archive: My LJ, anywhere else, please let me know
Summary: Castiel is patient.
Feedback: skin.walker2y5@gmail.com
Author’s Notes: Written for
haruslex 's We Know what Cas Did Last Summer comment meme. First posted here.Cas understood his current predicament was his own fault; he'd allowed himself to relax from constant vigilance. It was inevitable that the high came crashing down and he'd allowed his new status to go to his head.
He'd taken to visiting Dean when he could. He didn't know Castiel did, of course. Castiel hadn't meant to. He was content to return to Heaven and straighten out the mess left by a chaotic hierarchy suffering the loss of two archangels, his Father still missing. He glanced down from time to time to assure himself Dean was surviving, if not thriving. He'd seen Sam, too, several days after he'd been released from the Cage, standing outside Dean's window. When he didn't reveal himself to Dean, Cas took his cue and left Dean to acclimate to his “apple-pie” life. It was the least he could do.
But as the year progressed, Castiel had found himself feeling a certain loss that he couldn't place. He didn't long to be human again; that experience had been educational – and he believed it made him better equipped for his current task – but incredibly uncomfortable. Angels weren't meant to be human. Certainly not the way he had fallen. Even Lucifer had been allowed to retain his grace, tainted as it was.
And so he found himself visiting the human he had once called “friend”. He'd wait until Dean was gone. He heard Dean's prayers – he heard Sam's, too – but he kept his distance, though occasionally they gnawed at something inside him. But when Dean was gone Castiel would go to the house. He'd take the tarp off the Impala and drag his fingers along its black sides. He'd replace it and touch the handle of the law mower Dean used to cut the grass. Then he'd open the box where Dean kept his father's jacket and he'd simply stare at it. Sometimes he'd visit when Lisa and Ben were home and he watched their interactions, determining them suitable companions for Dean. Not that he had a say – or would vocalize such an opinion – but he was nonetheless content that Dean had a good life, that he was recovering; that some day, he might even be happy. That he might stop wandering out into the back yard and looking up at the heavens and calling his brother and the angel's names.
Unfortunately, despite knowing hunters were lurking about also watching over Dean, he misjudged them. Using Enochian sigils, they captured him in Dean's garage a month ago. He noticed Sam wasn't with them, but the sigils were clearly ones he'd taught to Sam and Dean in later days.
Of course, he hadn't noticed the specific sigils until he came to in a circle of holy fire in the middle of a dark concrete room. Formerly a fallout shelter – if the radioactive sign on the other side of the door was any indication – the room offered no sprinkler system, no pipes, and no other objects he could use to quench the fire or even move across the line of fire. Everything in the room was built from the outer walls. None of the cages were freestanding.
For cages were indeed what the tiny additional rooms were. Several housed supernatural creatures; others waited for new occupants. He'd received a few jeers the first few days he was trapped. None of them knew what he was, though they were clearly intimidated by him, one supernatural creature sensing the power of a greater supernatural being. Hence, the taunts, to cover their fear. All of them were rudimentary beasts or formerly human. A wendigo, a rougarou, a ghost. All used to supply the thing that wasn't Samuel Campbell with power and sustenance.
He admitted to himself, finally, after three interrogations by “Samuel” that he couldn't figure him out. It was a good spell that kept an archangel from knowing what kind of creature he was. Something only another archangel, a god, or a very powerful demon could cast.
It was this that he considered for the time he was kept in the bunker. He didn't sense Crowley on Samuel and he doubted the demon would go back on the deal they'd sealed on their last meeting, only two Earth months ago. Castiel stuck and impotent might interest the demon, but Crowley had everything he wanted, with an archangel's support.
So he ruled out Crowley, but that didn't mean it wasn't a competing demon. And an archangel or god could cover its scent even as they covered Samuel's true nature. Nonetheless, Castiel had a comprehensive list he planned on pursuing once he was free.
Unfortunately, he was no closer to that than the day he was captured and placed here. The fire could rage indefinitely unless an earthquake buckled the structure that was covered in anti-angel sigils which kept Castiel from using his powers to bring the roof crashing on his head. The cocky hunter, the older one, had nearly made a fatal error by stepping too close one day while joining in the interrogations and Castiel had been only a nanosecond too late before Samuel had hauled the other man out of reach. None of them had made that mistake since.
It frustrated him, but Castiel was patient. His only concern was, if this was the work of an archangel, how Heaven was getting along in his absence. He'd been able to establish Balthazar as a second in command, and the angel was unlikely to have fallen into a similar trap since his brother never left Heaven – certainly not to the jurisdiction of hunters – but he wasn't an archangel and thus subject to the wrath Raphael had once showered down on Castiel.
Then one day, the door opened and Samuel and the woman came in, dragging a female-shaped figure with a hood over her head and her hands shackled. Once they were in the room, the hood was shoved in Samuel's pocket and Castiel saw the woman to actually be an attractive djinn.
“Get her in a cell,” Samuel barked out.
Castiel watched the proceedings with a heightened level of interest, not even flinching when the djinn hissed at him like a cat. The two creatures that had joined them since Castiel had been trapped here had done the same thing. Even in the holy fire, his grace was not diminished.
“Will you tell me today how to get your grace?” Samuel asked, leering at him.
Castiel simply stared at him. This happened every day. He and Samuel were at a stalemate: Castiel couldn't escape, but nor did he have to give Samuel any information. He had no need for food or drink, wasn't susceptible to human forms of psychological techniques, and no creature could inflict harm on him worse than he'd been dealt by Heaven two years ago. Samuel, for his part, couldn't risk reaching across the holy fire divide to get what he wanted.
He'd tried to suggest something would happen to Sam if Castiel did not tell him what he wanted to know, but Castiel had seen Sam was changed. His bout in Hell might have been brief – only weeks instead of years like Dean – but something was different. Castiel hadn't taken the time to decipher it and was now regretting that inaction. But whether it was remnants of the demon blood or lingering power transferred from Lucifer, he knew Sam had nothing to fear, not from an angel, even. He suspected Samuel knew it as well, or he would have made good on his threat already.
Samuel shifted, bald head reflecting in the fire light. “I think you'll find, I'll soon have something to bargain with. Dean's not as safe as you might think, and what about his pretty new family? Practically perfect in every way...” Samuel taunted.
Castiel didn't allow his concern show on his face, just one more reason he was grateful for having shed his humanity. Facial ticks couldn't give him away.
The creature laughed and then said, “Come on, Gwen, let's go find Sammy,” before slamming the door behind them.
A moment after the door shut, the air was pierced with a high-pitched laugh coming from the djinn's cage.
“Looky here! Do you boys know what this is?”
She seemed to be addressing the other creatures in the bunker who all delighted in her display of dominance. Castiel was merely bored by it.
“These hunters got themselves a real live angel! That's what you are, aren't you, pretty boy? A righteous angel of the Lord, captured in an underground bunker by some humans. Fitting end considering what you nearly brought down on our little world.”
Castiel was curious how this djinn knew about the dealings of angels, but he dismissed it. Instead, he focused on what had intrigued him since the door had opened.
“You've recently fed,” he said.
She bared her teeth at him, moving to put her hands on the bars of the cell before drawing them back quickly. The metal had been coated with lamb's blood.
“I have. What's it to you, angel?”
He made no indication of a response and he watched as her smirk turned slightly disgruntled.
“I fed on a man called Dean Winchester. You know him, angel? You should. Wasn't he supposed to be your go-to man for the apocalypse? Came up a little short in the end, but that doesn't really matter. I'm not the only one gunning for him, you know. There's a bounty on his head, practically, amongst us monsters.”
“Why?” he asked, curious.
She grinned at him. “You become the center of the apocalypse that never happened? Let's just say, people pay attention. On the one hand, you'd think we'd be grateful because, hey, the world didn't end, right?” She smirks and leans closer to the bars. The hunters will have to come down and slick up the bars on a daily basis or she'll be able to get out. “Not the case, pretty boy. We're loose now, something the apocalypse shook up. Lucifer let us all go, you know. Not too fond of the man himself, but, hey, freedom's freedom. I owe it to him to shake things up a bit. So do the others. Dean's top of our list.”
She bared her teeth and he felt an irrational surge of anger. She was lucky his powers were in check.
He shrugged his shoulders and turned away from her, back towards the door. He'd gotten the information he wanted. Dean would be there soon. It was unfortunate he wouldn't get to have the life he wanted, deep in his heart, but Castiel hoped once he dealt with the latest threat, that he could return that to Dean. He deserved at least that much.
In the mean time, Castiel waited. Dean wouldn't know right away, but soon enough he'd realize something was wrong with Samuel, perhaps even recognize Castiel's silence less for the lack of a response and more for the inability to respond.
Castiel would be patient; he'd wait for Dean, for as long as it took.
