The sea was in a calm trance. Soft waves lovingly caressed the side of the Garrison, which was docked safely in the port in El Cielo. Castiel Novak grazed his hand along the handsome finish of the ship as his eyes wandered out to the sea, watching the sun set gently amongst the waves. He wished he were out there, doing what he did best, not here docked in the capital city awaiting even more orders. He had been called in by the King's secondary messengers, saying they had a mission for him. Not once in the ten years that he served the King in the Royal Navy had he disobeyed orders, so he abandoned his plans and took the two day journey back to the capital. Now all that was left to do was wait. Castiel turned around to see a group coming aboard the ship. They were the escorts of the King's Royal messenger, the second most respected man in the country. He delivered news directly from the King himself.

"Captain Novak." He said as they approached him.

Castiel saluted him briefly. "The Royal messenger. I was expecting a secondary messenger, you are a pleasant surprise. This must be important, what news have you for me?"

"It's a mission." The Royal messenger said, moving beyond the reach of his escorts. "Specifically a rescue mission."

Castiel didn't let him go any further. "A rescue mission?"

"Indeed. A ship was sent out for a quick two-day mission. It's been nearly a week. Captaining the ship is Captain Dean Winchester, an asset to the inner-workings of the Royal Navy. I need you to find him and assure he's in safe condition. His mission was to Paradise Peak and back. When you return with him, if he be in the adequate condition, I have a special undertaking for the both of you. So, essentially, you are rescuing your new partner."

Castiel processed this for a moment. He was used to getting new missions thrown at him, but a few things questioned him: who was Dean Winchester? Castiel was one of the highest ranking captains in the Royal Navy, if he was worth all this rescue effort, wouldn't he have heard of him at some point before? And why was he the one being sent on a rescue mission? He's an officer, a soldier. Not a rescue team.

Castiel decided to ask. "Captain Dean Winchester. Why is it I've never heard that name?"

"He works for a different section of the Navy. A section most people don't know about and I'm not about to discuss it in broad daylight with anyone's ears listening in. I assume you will accept this mission?"

Castiel didn't know he had a choice. "Yes, sir. Of course."

"I expect to see you soon. Hopefully both of you. Good luck." The Royal messenger left with quick salute, returned by Castiel.

Castiel let out a sigh. A rescue mission. It could have been worse, he assumed.

The Garrison was prepared to make its next voyage; they had barely been in the port for more than an hour before he received the order to leave again. Castiel decided it was best not to wait until morning, they could set out that night and make it back faster. Paradise Peak was less than a day's journey from El Cielo.

Castiel stood on the main deck, leaning against the railing looking out to sea. The moonlight glistened off the water, with only the occasional passing wave to disrupt its shimmering excellence. Castiel suddenly felt that he was not alone, and looked next to him, where Uriel now stood. He was a friend of Castiel's, and also second-in-command of the Garrison. Castiel respected him, but something about him has always set his teeth on edge.

"Beautiful night." Uriel said, mirroring Castiel's position.

"It is, isn't it?" Castiel said, looking up to the cloudless sky pretending that he just noticed the night's perfection. Castiel shifted uncomfortably against the railing.

Uriel seemed to notice the note of discomfort. "What ails you, brother?"

Castiel sighed and shifted his weight off the railing and turned to face into the deck. "Nothing." He said, unconvincingly.

Uriel turned to face him. "I have been working by your side for many years, I know when you are upset."

Castiel pushed off the railing and walked halfway across the deck before turning back to Uriel. "The Royal messenger said that this 'Captain Dean Winchester' was a part of a secret naval organization. Does it bother you that suddenly there's a whole part of the military that we never even know of? And that for some reason it's so secret that they can't even tell us it exists?"

"I never thought of it that way. I believe that if the King has his reasons for not letting us know about it." Uriel said.

Castiel pondered what possible reasons why the King would not tell him of this.

"I suppose you're right." He lied. He knew that something else was going on, but he decided to put the matter to rest for the sake of the mission.

Castiel exited the Garrison's captain quarters to a day as beautiful as the last night. He smiled at their luck and took a deep, long inhale of the morning sea. The smell of salt mixed with the smell of something else, like fire. He could hear a significant chatter echoing throughout the ship. Uriel was suddenly before him, looking urgent.

"We have located the ship." He said.

Castiel moved quickly across the ship to the main deck where he leaned over the railing to see what they've been searching for. It was obviously a beautiful ship at one point, but now it was reduced to ruins. The black finished wood lay splintered in pieces across the water, bits of what the ship held scattered with it. The ship herself had half-sunk, leaving only the bow emerged from the water, with the words clearly painted with silver letters, the Impala.

They lowered a lifeboat down, Castiel, Uriel and four other crew members aboard. The closer they rowed to the wreckage, the worse things became. They could now see blood in the water, and occasionally they would pass a body in the water. There was no need to check for life, they were dead. Castiel's stomach turned in circles as he thought of the fate of the captain. All they had to go off of was a drawing, and Castiel hoped he was still identifiable. They neared the bow, now completely surrounded by all sorts of mutilated bodies. Off from the bow a ways, they could see a man on a large plank of wood. Castiel ordered them to it. They approached it delicately. There he was, splayed across the length of the board. They pulled the plank closer to the lifeboat and Castiel, ignoring the protests of his crew, crawled onto it. Castiel was quite shocked by the delicate features of the man and how they managed to stay intact through the horror he must've suffered.

Castiel lowered two fingers to his neck and checked for any sign of life. There was a pulse.

"He's alive!" He shouted back to his crew as he heard a chatter of relieved sounds. They pulled him safely on to the lifeboat and back to the ship. Castiel carried him to his quarters, saying to his crew before he entered, "As of now, he is in my care. We leave for El Cielo immediately."

Castiel set his new "partner" down on the settee, comfortably arranging a pillow under his head. In order to do a full checkup of health, he was going to have to remove some clothing. With a surprising amount of ease, he was able to remove his coat and waistcoat, leaving just a simple white tunic. Castiel figured that might as well go also, leaving him in just his breeches. He looked him over briefly, noticing no fatal wounds, only the occasional nick and scratch. He certainly didn't fail to notice how young he was, he'd guess in his late twenties, which, given, was barely younger than himself. He walked to the first aid cupboard in the captain's quarters, shifting through a variety of materials before he pulled out some bandage.

Castiel tended to several of his wounds, neatly wrapping them in the bandage. That wasn't his only problems though, as he discovered. As he assumed, he was completely dehydrated. He must have been laying there for days. The best he could do at the moment was drape a wet cloth over his head and wait for him to wake up.

And he did. For hours. Hours of watching him just laying there. Castiel couldn't take it anymore, and got up to walk around. He would be fine for a couple of minutes. Nothing particularly interested him on the deck, so he walked back to the cabin. Seeing him still unconscious, he decided to take an extra step in helping this process speed along. He walked back outside, calling a young crew member.

"Bring me a bucket of water." He said. Yes, it was a bit of a harsh method, but his patience was being tried enough anyway, and they were almost back to the capital. He couldn't bear to tell the Royal messenger that he was still unconscious. He wanted the King's mind as much at ease as it could get. The crew member returned in less than a minute, carrying a full bucket of water.

"Thank you." Castiel said, dismissing the boy.

Castiel returned to the cabin, wasting no time before he threw the bucket of water on him. His reaction made him question why he didn't do this sooner.

Dean Winchester jerked awake with a very prominent, "What the hell?"

Castiel stared back at him, bucket still in his hand. He had to take a moment to admire the shockingly green eyes that now vibrantly stared back at him.

"Where the hell am I?" He asked, trying to get up, but slipping back down onto the settee.

Castiel moved quickly to his knees to make sure he wouldn't move from his position.

"You're aboard the Garrison. I'm Castiel Novak, captain of this vessel."

Author's note:

I have this huge long plot for this story, is it worth continuing? Please review and tell me what you think! This is the first AU i've ever written so I guess let's see how it goes. Sorry it was kinda short.

(and also I am going to have to do some mega-research in the inner-workings of a 18th century royal navy)

Some questions that yes, I am able to answer:

What happened to Dean's ship?

What's the secret naval organization that Dean belongs to?

If you review it really helps me to get a move on and write the next chapter! So if you like it and think I should continue, tell me!