A/N: I'm trying to feel the festive mood. This will be part 1 of 3 in response to my poll vote – I didn't have any plans for this prompt and then I thought of three. These are characters I'm not used to writing so fingers crossed for luck. A shout-out and thanks to DearHart and wideawakepastmidnight for the reviews on "Fevered", you guys are sooo sweet! J
Stay strong this holiday season everybody.
reads/rates/reviews/favorites/follows are all appreciated
Disclaimer: Santa said I couldn't have the Winchesters for Christmas. I own nothing, this is for fan purposes only. A big thank you to the creators of this show though, I love it so much and can't wait for its return, you guys rock.
Peace When You Are Done – Part I
The first thing Castiel notices is the bottle of Jim Bean on the stained table of the less than respectable motel. Not that he had any doubts that its owner drank, no, his intrigue is piqued by the fact that it's only a quarter empty. Strange, he thought the man was supposed to be on the borderline to becoming an alcoholic from the rumors he had heard, trying to drown his memories and sorrows with a combination of bloodlust and booze. The man in question himself was rather young to have such a heavy and hardened heart. Knowing the pain he has been put through Castiel didn't hold his ills against him, he was trying his hardest on his own that was for sure. In the stilled time frame of a fraction of a second that Castiel created for this visit the man's rough but young face held what was almost a smile on the lips. Tracing his gaze Castiel found the source of such unlikely joy. In the motel room's single queen bed a child sat enraptured in happiness by a colorful program on the fuzzy television set, a swaddled baby in his lap. These were the true reasons for Castiel's secret visit downstairs, he'd heard the rumors too, concerning these boy's, destiny, he couldn't help but sneak a quick peek at them, strictly for curiosity's sake, and tonight was the perfect time to make his secret trip while everyone else in the garrison was busy with the festivities. Taking his time he approaches the bed. They appeared normal, like every other human child he'd encountered before. But if rumors proved true they would be so much more. Yes, he could smell it now, the tainted ness in the air emanating from the infant held carefully by his protector. It was no wonder why he'd heard of Michael's choosing of that one, the protector of his brother and already soldier of his father, the similarities were uncanny. "You both have great destinies ahead of you." he spoke, "I hope we meet again." He turned and moved back to the man at the table. "You have great sons John, destined for great things." To Castiel it didn't matter that none of this was happening on a level that these creatures would be able to understand or remember, in some way, he believed, his message would reach across. Scanning the table he flicked a few pages in the lore book to the correct creature, a Kelpie, that was the cause for the stay in this hotel, this hunt. John thought it was some deranged spirit he knew, he needed a little help, perhaps he'd pay attention and learn. The man should be more careful though, with himself and his precious cargo, seeing a note in the open journal he carefully circled it, help would be granted there, he knew. His curiosity satisfied, he sighed and returned back to his garrison, upstairs, letting time resume its normal course below.
Dean could swear he heard the rustle of feathers. Turning to locate the source of the sound he caught glimpse of his father at the table working hard on a hunt to lead them towards his mother's murderer. Dean hoped they found the monster soon, so Sammy could have a real home and crib again, but couldn't contain his excitement that Dad was going to let him help him set the trap tomorrow night instead of just cleaning gear and setting up the salt lines. His father smiled a rare smile at him though and he couldn't help but return it as it washed his cares away with its promise of protection. He turned back to the Grinch's cartoon caper on the TV and leaned in close to his brother, Merry Christmas Sammy he whispered in the cooing baby's ear, at peace with what was left of his family nearby, knowing in his childhood innocence they could never been separated again.
John watched his sons from melancholy's embrace. Dean still didn't talk much, no matter what specialist he took him to see. It was alright though; he knew he'd talk in his own time. He missed Mary so much but watching his boys together he knew he still had true family and love in this world. Returning to his studying he couldn't remember turning the page in the ancient musty book that had cost him an arm and a leg, but there it was, everything matched up, his mind started formulating a plan. Reaching for his journal to write down a supply list for tomorrow night he saw the circled phone number a rather mysterious contact at a dive bar had left him with. He needed to call it, he'd been meaning to for a while now, he needed professional help in getting back at the thing that got his Mary and frankly his boys could use a little help too. Pastor Jim Murphy. He didn't remember circling the number but he added the call to the to-do list generating in his head.
Somehow he got the feeling that someone was watching out for his little family and for it he thanked the stars above.
Mary had always said that angels are watching over you, maybe just maybe she was right and good things existed too in this horrible and dark world.
In this moment John's heart found peace, if only for the night.