Stoic unseen retribution

Title Nights at the Dead Sea – interlude
Rating Adult
Pairings SamOFC(Sariel), implied Sam/Ruby
Genre Angst, Suspense,
Spoilers Through season 4
Word Count 900ish
Summary This is just a mere snippet of a larger story to come. Sariel

Notes: In The Revelation to John, Sariel is the angel of the church in Sardis. In The Lesser Key of Solomon it lists the dukes Asteliel and Gediel as commanding Sariel by night. The book A dictionary of angels by Gustav Davidson and The complete book of devils and demons by Leonard Ashley list Sariel as a Fallen Angel.

Stoic unseen retribution.

She sits perched atop jutting tower of The Cathedral of the Holy Cross. One leg bent with an arm slung over her knee, nonchalant enough to hide her trenchant stare, a sweeping judgment over the congested crowd below packing into the front doors of the rectory.

She pulls dark hair back with a sweeping stroke of nimble fingers, bonding with a physical form she hasn't inhabited in close to a millennia.

"Castiel…my old friend" she sighs into the wind.

"Sariel." His voice sounds underwater muted, not the choir of harmonious voices she hears when she closes her eyes. "Have you waited long?"

"Yes," Sariel answers, shakes her head and gestures for him to take a seat beside her. Castiel follows her scrutiny to the lines of people milling about below them. "They're preparing for Pentecost."

"Should we appear before them? Cloven tongues were tried and true, they could be vessels for a night, have them speak in tongues and feel the power."

"Why would you speak of such things? We haven't been allowed to play like that centuries." She shifts to let both legs hang over the steep drop of the ornate summit. "I'm starting to feel repulsion for them. So few believe and even less devote themselves."

"You've been spending too much time with Gabriel."

"I do love Gabriel. He has shown me more than I could imagine." She chides and takes Castiel's hand between her own. "So many will be cast to the fire when war comes. These people are nothing less than cattle for the slaughter."

"When did you start talking like this?"

"Around the turn of the century when man went from wide eyed, hopeful souls to sordid, gluttonous vermin. The descent of human kind happened so quickly I don't think any of us saw it coming…not like this."

"You underestimate the virtues still left. You forget inherent goodness."

Sariel smirks, looking off into the night as she softly swirls her index finger in the air. Below Castiel watches a woman begin to spin helplessly in slow circles. Sariel whirls her finger a bit faster and the woman throws her arms out to the side, her red coat spiraling wide looking something like a whirling dervish.

"Does it bring you pleasure…to torture her?"

"Pleasure, no. Fulfillment perhaps. She's lying with her husband's brother. She' s a liar, a thief and a whore who sits in these pews every week, in His house, His house Castiel. There is nothing redeeming to her, she worships under false pretense, her life is a lie. How can you not wish to smite her?"

"It's the not the task I was charged with."

"It is the difference between us, a widening riff I'm afraid will only pull us further away. You wait for orders, I seek out the evils. I take joy in eradicating, you take pride in rehabilitation."

"We're meant to carry out His will, not our own."

"We're meant to be fierce and mighty in His name."

Castiel watches her, a halo of faulted holiness that makes her face shine slightly. The most imperfect of all archangels, for she lusts and hates and reputes but in the end it could be her sitting at His right hand for her zealous desire to bring vengeance in his name emanates off her like raw heat from the sun.

"We must not see each other anymore." Castiel slips his hand from her grasp. "I have a task, you have your own."

"You got the brother you wanted."

"As did you." Castiel stands, taking one last slow and sweeping look over the grounds. "You'll ruin him before you redeem him Sariel. I've watched you work your will."

"I'll redeem him…the most glorious of all my achievements."

"I don't doubt you'll realize your goal, but why him? The evil inside his soul is a churning ocean, I foresee it casting a sickness over you."

"Belial wants him."

Castiel breaths deep, closes his eyes and thinks about the warm light of home and the love of compassion. "And you think he could be a Son of Light."

"We shall see."

--

The first time Sam sees her, she comes to him in a dream. Her skin is gray, but not the washed out, dead gray, she's something waxy and pleasant that makes him stomach warm. He's just fallen asleep, still sticky from Ruby and hot from the summer night as the sheets catch around his hips and makes him start awake.

She's wrapped in night, vapid ribbons of storm clouds play in her eyes as she whispers in his ear words he doesn't recognize but still understands. She calls to him, calls his name in her head, and her lips stay pursed, no sound to human ear but he hears her. He feels her.

She runs her fingers through his hair. A soft, controlled touch that makes his heart jump in his chest, his whole body goes stiff as he groans and then tries to silence himself. Sam wants to see her, but she's too close, all he gets are snaps shots: her cheek, her lips, her neck as she holds him tight.

Then she's gone. Sam aches for her.

Long after the dream fades from his memory he aches for something unknown. She waits and watches until the world begins to fall apart