challenge issued by: 494dwangel

Disclaimer: I do not own them

A/N: Archie is mine. He's Chuck's gaurdian angel and he's also a jerk. First apperance was in WINchester FAQ

Writer's Block

Archie, the red haired mischievous archangel, sat in front of Chuck's computer. His charge was passed out again somewhere in the house. After hours and hours of being used as a muse, a beta, and a bar wench Archie was tired of dealing with Chuck's shit.

After a moment's hesitation he began to type.

He grinned as the story bloomed to life on his computer. Writing wasn't that hard, he smiled, what the hell was Chuck complaining about so often?

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"I'm fine, Sam!" Dean protested loudly before breaking out into a coughing fit.

"Right." Sam rolled his eyes and opened a new box of tissues. "Then why were you puking two minutes ago?"

Dean glared at Sam and started to get up. Sam shook his head and placed a firm hand on his shoulder, forcing Dean to lie back down. "Stay put." He commanded as he pulled the blanket over.

"Sam… I do not approve of this." He wiggled under the sheets and stifled back a sneeze. "At all."

Sam picked up the car keys and sighed. "Look, I'm just going to go to the laundry mat. I'll be back in a couple of hours, okay?"

"Fine." Dean grumbled. "Hand me the TV remote."

Sam looked around the room. "Erm…"

"What?!" Dean snapped.

"It's not here… I think you broke it, remember?" Sam shrugged.

Dean remembered briefly throwing the remote when he'd run out of cough drops to chuck at Sam. He'd been sure it hadn't hit the window to hard… before it plummeted behind the dresser. "No I didn't." he said defiantly.

"Whatever." Sam headed out the door. "Just try not to do anything stupid."

Dean watched him go, loathing Sam's every movement. His head hurt, his limbs ached, and god how he hated the feel of snot constantly running down his nose. He tore out another tissue and threw back his covers. Wobbling slightly, he got out of bed and went to poke around the room for some entertainment. He cursed Sam's cleanliness, none of the knives needed sharpening, none of the guns needed to be cleaned, and all the decent magazines had been thrown out.

Shivering, he quickly retrieved Sam's laptop and dove back under the covers. He pulled on one of Sam's dopey extra large sweat shirts and nestled in a mound of pillows as he surfed the internet half heartedly.

He ended up doing one of those searches. Where you just type in your name and see what comes up.

D-e-a-n, he pecked at the key board, W-i-n-c-h-e-s-t-e-r. And on second thought he added, most bad ass man on the planet.

He wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve as he waited impatiently for the computer to load. On the night stand was some tea Sam had left him. He was sipping on it when the page finally displayed the results. He spewed tea everywhere when he noticed the first thing listed was called fan fiction.

"Oh my god." He breathed.

He clicked on the webpage timidly.

In glorious, and often graphic, details were the miscellaneous adventures of Sam and Dean that exposed their lives (and sometimes more) for the world to see. Dean started sweating profusely as he clicked on the first story.

It'd looked amusing when the title proclaimed, Bat Out of Hell, but he was quickly stunned to discover the plot. It described vividly his journey from Hell, but Dean's hero was described as a red-headed, blue-eyed, dashing angel- the envy of the entire garrison.

Dean quirked an eyebrow. He only remembered Castiel walking into the Rack to save him. The more he thought about, the more he remembered that there had been other angels in Hell that day. But they'd been fighting, not helping Dean undo his soul's chains.

Dean read more of the story engrossed by the chaotic description the author painted of the gritty fight through Hell. Castiel was in the second half, flying small circles around the red head and singing praise. Dean snorted at the weak battle descriptions. He chortled at the image of Cerberus whimpering in front of the angels. But he gagged at the last lines-

"Why thank you," Dean said breathlessly as he was set down on earth.

"It's just what I do." Said the ruggedly handsome Archie as he flew off into the sunset.

"My hero." Dean sighed as he started to search for his useless brother Sam.

The End

"What the fuck?" Dean stared at the computer screen. He clicked review angrily.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Archie clapped his hands excitedly when he saw his email. He clicked to see what review he had received. Just as he started to read it a hand tapped on his shoulder. He turned around with a sigh. "What is it Chuck?"

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest. "Ahem."

"Oh, hey Castiel…" Archie quickly exited out of his story. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were clear on a few things." Castiel said as he surveyed the room, he picked up a beer and swallowed it one gulp. He threw it down. "You were the garrison's water boy in Hell before we put you in charge of guarding the Prophet."

Archie held up his hands. "I didn't say anything otherwise."

Castiel glared. He pointed at the computer screen where the story reopened. "My wings are not purple or sparkly and I will not hesitate to smite you."

Archie rolled his eyes. "C'mon, it was all in good fun!"

Castiel shook his head.

"Alright, alright," Archie moved the mouse, "I'm fixing it."

Castiel snorted. "Good."

As Archie was about to hit delete, Castiel yelled, "Wait."

"Yes?" Archie hissed.

"Let me try it."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When Sam walked back into the hotel room Dean was shaking on the bed. "What's the matter?" he asked throwing down the clean laundry.

"F-f-f-fan f-f-fiction." Dean trembled.

Sam sat down on the bed next to Dean and patted his shoulder.

"Oh, Dean relax, I wrote that only when I was bored one day in college." Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not obsessed with Angel anymore."

Dean looked at him horrified. "That's not what I—Really?"

Sam blushed. "Never mind."

He picked up his laptop. "What did you see?"

Dean clicked on the Angels Anonymous' profile. "It's awful, Sam…and they keep updating…"

"Oh please," Sam rolled his eyes. "It can't be—oh my god."

Dean picked up his tissue box and handed one to Sam.

"Castiel's wings are purple?" he asked Dean.

"No, no," Dean pointed to the screen, "they clear that up in chapter two when Archie fights a dragon with only his fists…"

Sam slammed the laptop shut. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

Sam glanced at the computer. "Can we post fan fiction about Castiel?"

Dean picked up his tea and sipped on it thoughtfully. "I don't see why not."

Sam smiled. "Well then, I've go a few ideas…"

"This is great!" Dean grinned. "I feel better already."

To Be Continued