The Winchester Guardian Angels
Disclaimer- Not mine.
A/N: Ok, this is kind of an AU on how Sam first met Cas. Let's go all the way back to 4.02. The first and end part has conversation directly taken from Are You There God? It's Me, Dean Winchester. I mean no plagiarism, so let me say from the get go, that those parts of the story is all accredited to the supernaturally talented Supernatural script writers. There will be a companion piece to this, making it a two-shot, because sudden inspiration made me want to show two sides of this coin…
Hope you all enjoy!
This is dedicated to a new, awesome friend of mine, sallydeathhands. She's been so incredibly supportive and this is dedicated to her as a Get Well Soon prezzie! She's absolutely awesome, so go check her work out. Feel better soon, my friend!
Shoutout to Wraithdarte, my big sister whom I miss fiercely!
Please read and review!
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"An angel of the Lord? Like, a guardian angel?"
Sam Winchester fixed his brother Dean with a look of utter disbelief.
"That's what he said, basically, yeah," Dean burst out in agitation, flinging out his arms before letting them drop bonelessly back to his sides in a gesture of frustrated helplessness. "Well, not the guardian angel crap, just that 'angel of the lord' stuff." He huffed out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
Sam watched his movements, partly in fond amusement, partly in disbelief.
"You don't…you don't believe him?" Sam asked in astonishment. How could his brother, after everything they'd seen and then some, believe in all the evil and not believe that there was good out there somewhere too? He'd spent so long believing in some greater being because frankly, in their line of work, you had to believe that there was something good to counteract the years and years of seeing and being in the presence of evil. There were only two things Sam believed in for his whole life that kept him sane; God, and his big brother.
"How am I supposed to believe that, Sammy?" Dean asked, leaning against Bobby's kitchen countertop. "Guy comes and says he's a freaking angel that rescued me- me, of all people!- from the Pit. It's ridiculous."
"Well, then tell me what else it could have been," Sam challenged. He found himself desperate to make his older brother believe in this. If he could, then Dean wouldn't be so against having angels- freaking angels!- in their corner. And with the angels in their corner, maybe…just maybe…this road Sam was so afraid he'd been travelling to far on, could end. Maybe he could be saved from what was inside him, despite the fact that he'd been honing those…skills with Ruby.
"All I know is," Dean pushed himself off the counter in a renewed bout of agitated energy, "I was not groped by an angel."
"Okay," Sam consented, trying to find a way to make Dean believe, "look, Dean, why do you think this Castiel would lie to you about it?"
"Maybe he's some kind of demon," Dean threw out, not even sounding convinced in his own argument. "Demons lie."
Sam threw back his head in frustration with his brother's mulish stubbornness. "A demon who's immune to salt rounds?" he demanded. "And devil traps? And Ruby's knife? Dean, LILLITH is scared of that thing!" he burst out emphatically, trying to make his brother see the gaping holes in his flawed idea.
Dean picked up a slice of pizza from the opened box and sniffed it gingerly. He threw it back in the box before crossing his arms over his chest and deigning to answer Sam's argument. "Don't you think," he started calmly, "that if angels were real, then some hunter, somewhere, would've seen one? At some point? Ever?!" Sam couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he looked at his brother. Trying not to sound as awed as he definitely felt, he responded,
"Yeah, you just did, Dean."
Dean huffed, frowning a little at Sam's logic. His argument flailing, he latched on to something a little more familiar. Irritation.
"I'm trying to come up with a theory here okay, work with me!" he scowled.
Fighting the growl of annoyance threatening to escape his lips, Sam raised his face heavenwards. "We already have a theory Dean."
"Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please," Dean retorted sarcastically.
"Ok, look, I'm not saying we know for sure," Sam tried to pacify Dean, but tried to get his point across too. "I'm just saying that I think we…"
"Ok, that's the point," Dean interrupted, waving his hands to drive his point home. "We don't know for sure. So I'm not just going to believe that this thing is a freaking angel of the Lord, 'cause it says so!"
Sam nodded mutely, his irritation building, reminding himself that throttling his brother wouldn't be wise, especially since he was really ecstatic having Dean back after an agonizing four month absence.
"You two chuckleheads…"
Sam's head snapped up when Bobby' voice was abruptly cut off. He looked from his brother to Bobby and back to Dean, alarm growing when neither man seemed to move an inch, both frozen mid-action. Sam shot up from his place, hand going automatically to Dean's face.
It was cold, smooth. Like he was frozen over by death, because God, Sam would always remember what that felt like.
"Dean!" Panic burst through him, a lump rising in his throat at the familiarity of his shout.
"Your brother is fine."
The deep timbre came from behind Sam and automatically, he whirled around, gripping the hilt of Dean's knife from the waistband of his jeans and wielding it menacingly at the…tax accountant?
"Who are you?" he demanded frostily, "and what the hell did you do to my brother?"
The man glanced at him in mild curiosity, cocking his head to the side in childlike question.
"You and him are much alike," he nodded at Dean's prone form. "Always armed and ready to plunge knives in the event of a threat to those for whom you care."
"Who. Are. You?" Sam repeated dangerously, ignoring the observation and gripping the handle of the knife tighter. The next three words out of the guy's mouth stopped Sam where he stood.
"I am Castiel."
Sam slowly pulled back the hand wielding the knife, before what was said really caught up with him and he jerked upright, fumbling in his awe and childlike excitement.
"I am…"
"…an angel of the Lord, yeah, I know," Sam filled in excitedly, smiling at the tax acc…um, holy tax accountant. A small laugh burst out of him as he considered the ludicrous thought. The trench-coated man glanced at him like a child would a newborn baby.
"I am the one who gripped your brother tight and raised him from perdition," he stated calmly, like he was telling Sam that he picked up his Algebra homework for him.
"Thank you for that," Sam said earnestly, trying to convey his limb-weakening gratitude for returning his brother to him with burning eyes. "Thank you…so much."
"You should urge your brother to bear the same sort of gratitude," the angel nodded gracefully. "He seems to have deemed himself unworthy of being saved." For once, the angel's voice broke from its monotony, taking on a surprised, almost disbelieving flavor. "People pray to be saved every day. People much less deserving than Dean Winchester. My Father is merciful. Does your brother not believe in our Father, or does he not believe in his own greatness?" he wondered out loud. Before Sam could cook up a response, he seemed to shake it off, coming back into his shell of stoicism. "Regardless. You must be wondering why I have deigned to meet you Samuel Winchester."
"Sam," he corrected automatically, before flushing. "And yeah, the thought has crossed my mind."
"I am here because we are in need of your assistance."
Well, damn.
"Need…m-my assistance?" Sam looked at him incredulously. "What can I do, I thought it was Dean you wanted?"
"It is," he nodded in acknowledgement, "but you seem to be the only one Dean Winchester listens to."
"You know, you could call him Dean," Sam grinned in amusement, before wondering whether he was allowed to be this amiable and casual with an angel and promptly flushing again.
Castiel considered this before nodding. "If such colloquialism is accepted, then indeed."
"What, um…what do you need me to tell Dean anyway?" he asked uncertainly. He tensed his muscles, hoping fervently there was no bad news to break.
"We need you to convince him that this is real, and that we need his help," Castiel revealed, looking out into the distance. "Most importantly, we need you to convince him that he is worthy, or else this will all be for nothing."
Sam thought on this for a second. Why was Dean's self-recriminating nature to do with saving the world?
"I am also here to enlighten you," the angel added, looking directly now at Sam, who started.
"Enlighten me on what?" he asked before he could stop himself.
"Why your brother is worthy," he said simply. Instinctive anger boiled in Sam and he scowled. Before his mouth could catch up with his brain, he was retorting.
"I know my brother is worth it, he's a better man than anyone I know," he shot off. "Dean deserves to be saved more than anybody!"
"And yet you question to yourself why he has an angel," Castiel returned calmly. "I believe a guardian angel is what you called me."
Sam flushed, his argument failing and disgust filling him. He had felt ashamed of it the minute the thought had entered his head.
"I…I just, I meant…" he floundered pathetically. The angel fixed him with a look that had a hint of almost compassion in his shuttered blue eyes.
"I am here simply to deliver a message," he interrupted.
"What message?" Sam asked.
"You wondered why you did not have a guardian angel," Castiel stated.
"I don't mean that Dean shouldn't, please," Sam pleaded for understanding. "I guess…I don't know the thought just…came."
"What is your definition of a guardian angel, Sam?" Castiel asked him.
"Someone who protects you, makes sure no harm comes to you," Sam answered automatically. "Someone watching over you your whole life and making sure you're safe."
"November second 1983," the angel responded.
"The day my mom died?" Sam queried in confusion. When and how did the subject change?
"If you would be so polite not to interrupt," Castiel frowned, a miniscule twitch of his brow but a frown nonetheless.
"Right. Sorry."
"On November second 1983, a house in Lawrence Kansas caught mysteriously ablaze. In any ordinary circumstance, there would have been two fatalities, but there was only one." Castiel looked Sam steadily in the eye. "Your brother, four years old, carried you to the safety of your front lawn. Protecting you with his own body, he carried you out, mindless of the harm that might come to him.
March nineteenth 1987, in a park in Santa Barbara, you were swinging and decided you wanted to jump to see if you could fly. The only thing that stood between you, a shattered arm and a near fatal head injury, was your older brother, who in an attempt to catch you, instead cushioned your fall and ended up with a broken wrist himself.
June twelfth 1992, you were attending a school in Fitchburg. For the first time, you and your brother were in different schools. An older boy was targeting you and tried to steal your backpack while you were waiting for Dean. He would have succeeded, and given you a myriad of bruises and a few cracked ribs to prove it, if not for Dean coming at just the right second and incapacitating the threat.
February eleventh 1997, you went hunting with your father and brother for a poltergeist in Fort Douglas. You froze for a crucial moment in fear and before the spirit could spear you with your own dropped hunting blade, your older brother stepped in front of you, earning himself 26 stiches down his left arm and a month of running tactical maneuvers as punishment when he shouldered the blame for the incident with John Winchester.
August twenty-seventh 2000, John Winchester came across college brochures in a motel in Manteca. He had Dean through 3 hours of laps, tactical maneuvers and intensive sparring until he couldn't stand followed by a severe talking to about what Dean claimed was his brochures, highlighted in specific Stanford University Palo Alto.
September twentieth 2003, Stanford University was being targeted by a witch with a grudge against the institution after being debarred from further studies, but before it could set foot on the campus lawn, it was directed elsewhere and taken care of by an exhausted Dean Winchester who had driven 9 hours straight to get to you in time before exacting his attack. Dean landed up in ICU with a collapsed lung, but still refused to pull his brother back into the life he had left. He ended up alone in the hospital while John Winchester left in a cloud of anger and you were oblivious on your calm, now-safe campus.
May eighteenth 2007. After being forced to bear witness to your demise, he did the only thing he could have done. Dean Winchester gave the absolute last thing he had left in the name of protecting his younger brother. On May eighteenth 2007, Dean Winchester sold his soul, and on May eighteenth 2008, he departed this earth for a fate worse than any man's worst nightmare, with no regret for what had come to pass.
I was limited to recanting these stories to you in particular, though I am told that there are countless others." Castiel looked gravely at the youngest Winchester, who was slack-jawed with shock, hazel eyes burning with an emotion indecipherable to the angel. "Our message to you, Samuel Winchester, is this: You were not assigned a Guardian Angel from Heaven, because our Father saw to it that you were already born with one."
Castiel waited gracefully while Sam tried to get his emotions under control. How could he not have seen it? Why did it take an angel to remember what Dean had done for him, what Dean was always doing for him?
"He's the best guardian angel I could have ever wanted," Sam murmured, his voice gruff and more than a little choked. He forced himself under control.
"Keep your faith Sam Winchester; Our Father always hears our deepest thoughts. And your brother will always know your deepest self." He turned away, starting to walk away before stopping and repeating himself over his shoulder: "Keep your faith Sam. I believe you might need it until Dean begins to believe himself."
And with a whoosh that spoke of the fluttering of wings, the trench-coated man was gone.
"…wanna keep arguing religion, or you wanna come take a look at this?" Bobby's voice abruptly filled the air once more and Sam started a second before realizing he was back on his own time warp. He shared a look with Dean, wanting to grab him in a hug and thank him for everything he had always done, and just barely restraining himself. They got up and approached Bobby together, Sam leaving his proclamation of gratitude for another time.
Now, he had to convince Dean angels existed.
And he had to prove to Dean that he was worthy. That Dean himself was an angel, of sorts.
Sam's guardian angel since May second 1983.
