Written for Dreamwidth community What If AU prompt Supernatural AU
Part 1 of Cas and the Holidays series.
There were many things Castiel had learned in the months that he had been human.
He needed to eat several times a day or he became weak and grumpy.
He needed to brush and floss his teeth twice a day, or he risked decay.
There was no way to prevent the need to urinate or eliminate solid bodily waste.
Some clothing could be worn several days. Other articles needed to be changed daily.
Ignoring the need to sleep for as long as possible was a bad thing to do.
Daytime television was not, in fact, a good guide to understanding human behaviour.
Neither was late night television. ...or erotic entertainment.
Truthfully, the complexities of humanity were proving a daunting task for the fallen angel. He had taken to hiding in the bunker, borrowing Sam's laptop when it was not in use, and growing increasingly intimidated.
Until he checked the date. A holiday was coming up, and he knew that holidays were important events to humans. It would be his first as a human, and he wanted to try and celebrate. After a little bit more research, he came up with a plan.
That evening Sam and Dean returned from a routine hunt. He let them clean up and relax, and then approached them.
Dean was in the kitchen setting out a pizza box while Sam opened up a container of salad. Castiel pulled plates and forks out of the cabinet and set them on the table. After they started eating, he told them his idea.
"I found out that tomorrow is Halloween," he began.
"Yeah, that's why I'm glad we got that vampire nest cleared out today," Dean replied, picking the green peppers off his pizza and giving them to Sam.
"Do you have any plans to celebrate?"
"Nah. We normally try to stay in. Why?"
Castiel stayed quiet. He had been eager, but did not want to ruin any traditions that the brothers had.
"Cas?" Sam asked. "What's going on?"
"I found out there is a Halloween festival here in Lebanon and I had thought that maybe we could go."
Sam and Dean glanced at each other.
"Cas, man, we don't usually do things like that," Dean said slowly.
He tried to hide his disappointment. Sure, he could go by himself since he had a car. He had just thought that, judging by the pictures he had seen of people at festivals, you were supposed to go in a group.
"However, that doesn't mean we can't," Sam added. "This is your first Halloween as a human, right? We can go for a few hours…"
Dean gave Sam an annoyed look, and Sam pointedly looked to Castiel and back at Dean. After a moment Castiel could see Dean give in.
So the next evening the three climbed into the Impala and headed for the Lebanon Halloween/Harvest Festival.
Castiel hadn't been sure exactly what to expect, so when he got out of the car he was overwhelmed by it all. Humans were running around, laughing, and having a generally enjoyable time. The air smelled of popcorn, cooked meat, and apples.
"Where first?" Sam asked as Dean handed them paper bracelets to wear. Apparently they were to prove that they had paid to get in.
"I'm...not sure," he admitted. "This is bigger than I was expecting."
"Are you hungry?" Dean asked.
"I do not require nourishment yet."
"You can eat without-never mind. Okay, well I'm going to go check out the deep fried candy bars. You go do whatever it is you came here for."
Castiel watched Dean leave and then turned to Sam.
"I'm okay," Sam told him before he could speak. "How about we go try some games?"
Castiel nodded his agreement, and the two friends began to slowly make their way through the festival.
They passed a pumpkin carving competition, which Casti el observed wit h confusion. Was that not a waste of food? He thought about the homeless, starving people he had met just after becoming human, and he felt disapproval. There was a pie contest, and Castiel knew that Dean would soon make his way there. The man's love of pie was eclipsed only by his love for his brother and the Impala.
Finally, they came to the gaming booths. Castiel stopped in front of a large tub. It was full of water, and shiny red apples were floating on the surface. He watched as a man leaned over and tried to grab an apple with his teeth. For some reason the man's hands were clasped behind his back.
"That looks uncomfortable. I fail to see the purpose," he said.
"It's the challenge. I kind of agree with you though," Sam said.
Sam pointed at booth where people were shooting suction cup darts at some balloons, and got into line to play. When it was Sam's turn, he shot three balloons in a row on the top level. The operator handed Sam a large stuffed dog.
"See anything you want to try?" Sam asked, handing him a handful of coins.
Castiel looked around. There was a booth where people were shooting water guns at targets, a booth where rubber ducks were running on a water track, a booth where you tried to knock over a pyramid of bottles. None of them looked appealing. Then he noticed a smaller booth at the end of the row. It had rows of bowls and people were throwing small balls into them. The prizes seemed to be fish.
"I wish to try that one."
The cost was 25 cents a throw. Castiel took the small white ball and studied the rows of bowls. They decreased in size until the bowls in the back were barely larger than the ball. He carefully aimed and threw the ball. It landed neatly in one of the smallest bowls.
People around him clapped, and he looked down, embarrassed by the attention.
"Congratulations. You get the top prize," the operator said and handed Castiel a cup with a fish in it. Instead of one of the many goldfish, it was a red fish with large fins.
"Oh, a betta," Sam said with a smile.
They walked away from the booth. "Betta?"
"Yeah, it's called a betta fish. What are you going to name him?"
Castiel held up the cup, looking closely at the fish. It stared back at him, its tiny mouth opening and closing. Suddenly it looked towards the top of the cup and a bubble of air came out of its mouth. "Bubbles."
Sam chuckled. "Okay. Bubbles. Let's go get some food."
They got their food and sa t down at a picnic table. Castiel watched Bubbles swim in circles in the small cup.
"Can we get him a larger home? I don't think he likes the cup."
"Sure. There's a pet store nearby. He can have as big a tank as he wants," Sam replied. The words were directed at Castiel, but Sam's gaze was on a woman at the next table. She had been trying to catch Sam's eye from the moment they had sat down. At first Sam had ignored her, but now...
Castiel sighed. "Go."
"What?" Sam asked, turning to him.
"Go talk to her." Sam didn't chase women like Dean did, so Castiel knew that the man was definitely interested. He wanted to stay with his friend and continue to explore the festival, but he couldn't stand in Sam's way.
"Cas…"
"I'll be fine. I'm not a child."
Sam smiled in thanks, handed him a handful of money, and moved to sit next to the woman.
Castiel sighed and picked up Bubbles' cup. He threw away his trash and headed past the gaming booths. Now there were booths showing colorful blankets and cold weather clothing. He was examining a blue and yellow blanket when a scream caught his attention. Abandoning the blanket, he hurried towards the sound. Several people were hurrying away from a run down building. A hand painted sign told him that it was a "Haunted House."
He studied the building, concerned. If it was truly haunted, he needed to go and get Dean and Sam. A basic salt and burn would get rid of the ghost easily. It was unlikely there were bones buried on the property. It was more likely the ghost had attached to an object in the house.
However, it seemed that the festival owners were using the haunting to make money. That was not a good idea and all of these poor humans were in danger.
Since he was already here, perhaps he could do some quick research and find the object for the brothers. That would allow them to continue to enjoy the festival. They rarely got a chance to have fun.
He gave the operator a dollar and, clutching Bubbles' cup tightly, entered the Haunted House.
It was dark inside, with greyish light filtering in through grimy windows. The first room looked like a normal living room but very neglected and dirty. Out of the corner of Castiel's eye he saw something scurry behind the sofa. He wanted to go and investigate, but a chain barrier prevented him from doing so. He thought about climbing over it, but the front door opened and a group of people entered. Now he couldn't, and he had the humans to protect from the evil spirit.
He entered the next room, the dining room, and it was dimmer than the living room. He felt his heart rate increase, and he took a deep breath. The table was upright, but the chairs had been knocked over as though there had been a fight. Dishes were shattered on the floor, and dark stains covered the table and wallpaper. A loud thud echoed against the far wall, shaking the picture fr ames. Ano ther thud sounded a minute later, followed by a long, low growl. Behind him he heard the group laugh nervously. He quickly checked his coat where his angel blade was safely tucked inside. He knew it could not be used against a ghost, but it made him feel better to have it.
But maybe it wasn't a ghost.
The next room was blocked off by a hanging curtain of black plastic. Slowly, he pushed it aside, but found the room pitch black. He took another deep breath and looked down.
"It's okay, Bubbles. I don't think that whatever this is attacks bettas."
Entering the dark room, he deeply wished that he had his angel sight. Human eyesight was practically useless in the dark. He carefully made his way forward. It was quiet. Far too quiet. He could hear his own breathing and was surprised to find how quick and shallow it was. Suddenly there was a high pitched scream and then the sound of a chainsaw starting up. Vaguely, beneath the chainsaw sou nd, h e could hear laughter. Deep in his brain, instinct was telling him to run. He was in danger and needed to get out.
His heart now pounding painfully, he gripped the fish cup in one hand and his angel blade in the other. He started to run forward, prepared to attack anything that came at him. Yet, nothing did. At one point he felt a puff of ice cold air, but nothing physically assaulted him. He collided with a solid plastic mass and pushed forward. It was another curtain, and stepping through, he found himself back in the bright sunlight. He turned towards the building, but nothing was coming out after him.
Taking a moment, he tried to catch his breath and resheathed his angel blade.
He was deeply ashamed of his reaction. He was an Angel of the Lord. A seraph. A soldier. He had faced down the most heinous of evil...armies of evil. He had gone on hunts with the Winchesters.
Except he wasn't an angel anymore. His grace had been stolen from him, and he no longer had his powers, or strength, or ability to heal himself. He was just a fragile human.
"There you are," he heard Dean's voice call. He saw both brothers coming towards him. In Dean's hands was a plate of several slices of pie.
"We have to-" He broke off, coughing as his breath caught. "There's something in there. It's evil. I did not see-"
"Wait, are you talking about the Haunted House?" Dean asked, a smile starting on his lips.
"Yes!"
"Cas...it's fake," Sam said.
"No, I was in there and-"
"Sound effects. Props. None of it is real. It's just for fun."
"Fun?" he exclaimed, his shame growing. "There is nothing fun about this kind of thing. Hauntings and monsters are very real things that kill people. Humans...you're so foolish. You never take seriously what-"
"Hey, Cas, calm down," Dean said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Castiel closed his mouth and looked away. "You were really scared, weren't you?"
Castiel didn't reply.
"It's okay. You didn't know. Most people find this kind of thing fun. Places like this are safe fear. You go in knowing nothing can really harm you, but you get scared all the same. It plays with your senses," Sam explained.
Dean led them towards the entrance to the festival. "And yeah, most of these people don't take this kind of thing seriously. They've never had to deal with what we have."
"Thanks to people like us," Sam added.
That night Castiel l ay in his bed watching Bubbles explore his new home. They had gone to the pet store and the betta now resided in a five gallon tank, complete with filter and heater. The gravel was multi colored and several fabric plants provided the fish places to hide. He had even gotten Bubbles a friend. A small plecostomus was attached to the side of the tank. He hadn't thought of a name for it yet.
Rolling over, he thought about what had happened at the festival. The Winchesters didn't seem to think he should be ashamed, but he still was. Their kind treatment of him after made it even worse. They had even explained that he hadn't been that scared on hunts because he had back up. He hadn't in the Haunted House.
Closing his eyes and listening to the low hum of the filter, he added to his list of things he had learned.
Corn dogs were delicious.
Betta fish made nice pets.
Halloween Haunted Houses were fake.
No matter how hard he tried, he would never understand the complexities of human behaviour.
He hated being human.
He just wanted to be an angel again.