A/N: Post 14x02, therefore spoilers. I did not intend this to be speculative of 14x03, but if I were writing for the show…
But I don't. And I don't own SPN. Thanks to 29Pieces for beta reading!
"Sleeper"
Castiel made his way through the bunker, patrolling. That's what it felt like, anyway. Patrolling the halls to make sure neither Jack nor Nick tried to run off on their own again. Patrolling to keep an eye on them both and gauge how they were doing with their various struggles. It was a good thing Castiel didn't need to sleep. But it was tiring to be so constantly on guard. At least having Dean back alleviated some of his stress.
Although, the circumstances surrounding that were also worrying, and Michael was still out there, plotting something they had yet to figure out. They were all under immense strain.
Castiel entered the library and roved his gaze over the pile of books Jack had been looking at on archangel grace. On another table was the sparse case file on the murder of Nick's wife and child. One, Castiel couldn't help; the other, he had a hard time bringing himself to even want to. And with Michael still at large, they had to make certain priorities.
With a sigh, Castiel turned, only to find himself abruptly face to face with Nick. He hadn't heard the human come in. Nick's expression was blank, cold, even, his eyes devoid of the roiling emotions he'd been drowning in the past several weeks.
"Nick," Castiel said, swallowing hard as he tried to remind himself yet again that this wasn't Lucifer. "Is something wrong?"
Nick quirked a look at him, the lines around his eyes crinkling. "Is something wrong?" he repeated. "My wife and child were murdered and no one cares."
"I…I can't imagine how difficult this is for you."
"You don't care," Nick cut him off, eyes flashing with a reminiscent darkness. "You destroyed a family. I looked up Jimmy Novak. He had a wife and child too."
Castiel tried to take a step back, but knocked against the table behind him. "That…was different."
He did not want to stand there and have accusations thrown in his face again. He already knew the destruction he'd wrought, already regretted the course things had taken. That Jimmy was now in Heaven with Amelia was little consolation. And Claire…Castiel could never fix that.
"You're an abomination," Nick sneered.
Castiel drew his shoulders back. "I think you should take some time to cool down, Nick."
"I'm done with angels telling me what to do."
The flash of steel struck out like lightning, and Castiel barely had time to throw his arms up and catch Nick's hands. Even so, the angel blade plunged between his lower ribs, and only Castiel's strength kept it from piercing up into his heart. He grunted in surprise and pain, thrown off balance enough for Nick to bear him down against the table. Though Nick's eyes didn't glow red, there was a raving madness in them Castiel found chillingly familiar.
Gritting his teeth, he shoved Nick away from him, gasping as the blade slid out of his chest. He staggered into a defensive position, but whether possessed by insanity or remnants of Lucifer's grace, Nick recovered and lashed out again with the speed of a cobra. He smashed the blade's pommel into Castiel's temple once, then twice, until Castiel crashed to the floor, darkness and flying blood obscuring his vision.
"You deserve to die, just like Lucifer," Nick seethed.
He swung the blade down again, and Castiel once more threw his hands up to catch it. Nick had the leverage and an almost preternatural adrenaline coursing through his veins that Castiel could feel vibrating down through the angel blade. The wound he'd already sustained was on fire, grace burning along the edges of mortal vessel as it bled through flesh and sinew. And all he could see was Lucifer.
Jack heard raised voices coming from the library. The Winchesters weren't due back yet from their case, so it was probably Nick. Unlike the others, Jack had a bit more compassion for the man left behind after Lucifer had been killed. Not that he felt any attachment or desire to reach out to him. He was a stranger, after all. Sam and Castiel had been taking care of the damaged human.
But then there was a crash, and Jack quickened his pace to reach the library. He pulled up short in flabbergasted shock when he saw Nick bearing down on Castiel with an angel blade.
"Nick, stop!" Jack shouted.
The man flicked a furious gaze his way, giving Castiel enough of an opening to throw Nick back several feet. Nick skidded across the floor until a chair stopped him, and then he was quickly leaping to his feet again, blade still in hand.
Castiel rolled onto his hip as though to get up, but collapsed with a pained grunt. Jack saw blood and grace oozing from a stab wound in his chest.
He shot a wide-eyed look at Nick. "What are you doing?" Jack exclaimed.
"He's a parasite," Nick spat. "Just like Lucifer. He stole that body, did you know that? That's all angels do—destroy human lives. They all need to die." He took a lumbering step back toward Castiel.
Jack's heart leaped into his throat, and he lunged for the gun Dean kept strapped to the underside of the table, yanking it out and aiming it at Nick. "Stop. Nick, I don't want to hurt you."
Nick paused, eyes narrowing. "Oh, you're going to shoot me? You're going to protect a monster? The same kind of monster that killed your mother?"
Jack's jaw tightened. "My mother died in childbirth."
"Because an angel impregnated her. I remember. Lucifer wanted a son he could have all to himself, someone he could raise to be an adoring little puppy that would follow him around everywhere. He didn't care about Kelly's life. He didn't even care about yours in the end."
Nick turned toward Castiel again.
"Nick!" Jack yelled. "I mean it. Don't."
But Nick wasn't paying attention to him anymore. He was leering at Castiel like a wolf its prey. Jack had only had a few training sessions shooting a gun, but he understood the principle. He didn't want to shoot Nick, though. The man was still human, and Jack didn't want to hurt humans…
Nick raised the angel blade and started forward, and Jack squeezed the trigger. A sharp report cracked the air like thunder, and he flinched. Nick stumbled. Jack pulled the trigger again, two more times, the bullets ripping through Nick's mortal body. The man jerked with each impact as he pitched backward and hit the floor with a heavy thud.
Jack stood frozen. The acrid scent of gunpowder and smoke wafted from the barrel into his nose. He waited, stunned, but Nick didn't move or make a sound. Finally, Jack inched forward to check the body. Three bullet holes were in his chest, trickles of blood seeping out the top while a larger puddle pooled out beneath him. Vacant eyes stared up at the ceiling.
Jack felt…regret. Everyone had said Nick had gotten a second chance, an impossible chance, and for it to be wasted, for Jack to have taken it away…
But he'd had no choice.
He spun back toward Castiel, who was struggling to prop himself up on one elbow while his other hand clutched at his wound. His head was also bleeding.
Jack dropped the gun on the table and rushed over. "Cas." He reached out, only to stop and let his hands hover uselessly. "Can you heal?"
"I'll be fine," Castiel ground out. "It's not fatal. I just need…" His face screwed up in pain and he rocked back. Blood and grace was leaking out between his clenched fingers.
Jack didn't know much about first aid, but he'd paid attention in the apocalypse world where triage was a way of life for the humans. Jack may have had his powers then, but he'd never been able to heal.
He took Castiel's hand and moved it away from the wound. "Let me see."
Castiel groaned and tried to get a look himself. The stab wound was bleeding heavily, not just red blood, but blue grace as well, which Jack knew was not good. He bunched up the bottom of Castiel's trench coat and pressed it to the wound. Castiel thunked his head back against the floor with a stifled groan.
"We need to apply pressure to stop the bleeding," Jack explained. He frowned as he noticed Castiel was starting to shake. Was that going into shock? What did he do for that?
"Cas," he called urgently when the angel's eyelids started to flutter closed.
"I'll…be fine," Castiel rasped. And then he went limp.
Jack's heart dropped into his stomach. "Castiel!"
He lifted the compress to take a peek, and then quickly replaced it when he found the wound still bleeding heavily. Maybe Castiel's angel healing would kick in eventually, but Jack couldn't count on it, especially since the injury had been dealt by an angel blade. So what did he do?
Treat it the way Sam or Dean would, he supposed. But Jack didn't know how to do things like sutures.
Keeping one hand applying pressure on Cas's chest, Jack dug out his phone with the other and called Sam. The line clicked after two rings.
"Hey, Jack, everything okay?"
"Nick is dead," he said.
"What?"
"I killed him. He attacked Cas." Jack glanced over at the body, still feeling remorse over the necessity of his actions.
There was a sharp exhalation. "Is Cas okay?"
Jack turned back to the unconscious angel. "No. He said he'd heal, but he's bleeding badly and passed out. I- I don't know what to do."
"Okay, okay, we're coming back now. Just…" Sam trailed off. "Shit, it's gonna take us a few hours. Just hang in there, okay? Try to stop the bleeding and keep him warm. And- and if he said he'll heal, then he probably will."
Even Jack could tell Sam was just trying to encourage them both, as the thread of worry lacing his tone was obvious.
They disconnected, and Jack pursed his mouth as he gazed at Castiel. He waited ten more minutes before checking the wound again, and was relieved to see the bleeding had slowed. Grace wasn't blazing out, but there was still a small glow deep in the wound. Jack didn't even want to try stitching that, but a proper compress bandage would probably be good.
He got off the floor and hurried down the corridor to the infirmary where he grabbed an armful of bandages and wipes, then made his way back. He dropped everything on the floor next to Castiel, then paused in consideration. He shrugged out of his jacket and bundled it up under Castiel's head. Jack wished he could get Cas to his room, but he wouldn't be able to move the angel on his own.
He then set about ripping open packages of bandages and wipes, carefully cleaning the area around the wound to make sure he could see it clearly. The bleeding hadn't started up again, so he taped a few square patches of gauze over the wound. With that done, he turned his attention to the contusions on Castiel's temple, cleaning the blood away from them and trying to see how bad the damage was. They were red and swollen, but Castiel had borne wounds like that before without complication.
Once finished, Jack rocked back on his haunches and surveyed his work. He'd done everything he could. Wait, Sam said to keep him warm. That was important with blood loss.
Jack leaped up and sprinted to his bedroom to grab a blanket off his bed. He quickly returned and draped it over Castiel. He wondered how long it would take Castiel to heal. When he'd been beaten by those demons, it had taken over a day for the bruises to fade. Jack had overheard him and Sam talking about how Heaven was dying and Castiel's grace wasn't as strong as it used to be. Given how long it could take an archangel's grace to regenerate, Jack worried about something as serious as a stab wound. He was suddenly struck with the horrific knowledge of how vulnerable they all really were. Jack had been so absorbed with his own shortcomings lately and hating how everyone treated him like he was this fragile thing. But the truth was even with angel powers, someone like Castiel could be injured.
He could die.
Jack began to understand the fear Castiel had reacted with in regards to some of Jack's recent actions.
But he wasn't helpless. Jack's gaze drifted over to Nick's body again. He hadn't charged in and gotten the shit beaten out of him. He hadn't been useless in a fight. No, somehow he'd kept his head, remembered where the gun was, remembered his lessons, basic as they were. Because in that moment it wasn't about proving himself; it was about saving Cas.
Jack got up and went into the dormitory wing to grab a spare sheet from the linen closet, which he brought back to cover Nick's body with. And then he sat on the floor, legs crossed, and watched over the angel who had been his family from the beginning.
A sharp pulsing in his chest brought Castiel back to consciousness, and he jolted with a harsh gasp.
"Easy, don't move," Jack's voice said from nearby, and a hand squeezed his shoulder. "You haven't healed yet."
Castiel blinked the blurriness from his vision and looked around. He was on the floor in the library…Nick. Castiel strained to lift his head, and briefly caught a glimpse of a body under a shroud before pain stole his breath and he sagged back against the floor. Something soft was pillowed beneath his head, though, cushioning it. He took a moment to turn his senses inward, gently probing at his wound. The substance of his vessel and true form were still raw and torn. In fact, he didn't detect any hint of healing yet at all.
Castiel's jaw tightened with self-recrimination. He'd known something was off with Nick. He should have done something sooner. Pushed the issue with him, tried to get him help.
"What else can I do, Cas?"
He pried his eyes all the way open to look at Jack. "Nothing," he said hoarsely. "I'll be fine. Thank you for what you've already done." He could feel the bandages on his chest and head.
Jack's mouth pressed into a thin line. "I'd help you move to a bed, but I'm afraid you'll start bleeding again. Your grace hasn't healed you at all."
Castiel sighed. "I know. It's not as strong as it used to be. I'll recover in time, though." He paused as he recalled what had happened. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Jack said incredulously.
"I meant…" Castiel shifted his gaze toward Nick's body.
Jack turned his head that direction, then quickly looked away. "He gave me no choice."
"I know. I'm sorry you had to do that."
"He would have killed you."
This time Castiel averted his gaze, the hateful words ringing in his mind.
"Why did Nick snap like that?"
Castiel shook his head with regret. "Lucifer was…cruel to those he possessed. There was likely significant damage to Nick's psyche from it all."
Jack frowned. "He was so angry. At all angels. He said…I guess I never really thought about it, with you. But…Michael took Dean. So you…"
"Am possessing someone else's body," Castiel finished. "Yes. Years ago a man said yes to being my vessel, and I possessed him, took him away from his family, his life. Normally a soul remains in the body when an angel possesses it, but circumstances led to Jimmy dying and his soul going to Heaven. It's just me in here now."
Jack's brow was creased pensively.
"It's not…" Castiel started, grief and self-loathing tightening his throat. "I will forever regret what I did to Jimmy and his family. But I can't change it. All I can do is try to make his sacrifice not a waste, by continuing to fight for good, to protect this world. It won't make up for it, but I have to keep trying."
He closed his eyes against an upwelling of remorse and shame.
"You're not like Lucifer," Jack spoke up after a moment. "Cas, you're not."
Castiel blinked at him.
Jack shook his head fervently. "Lucifer lied and manipulated people. He preyed on Nick's grief over his family and tricked him into saying yes. You wouldn't have done that. I'm sure you didn't do that."
Castiel swallowed. No, he'd been honest and upfront with Jimmy. Told him if he chose to remain a vessel, he would never die, never age. His soul would be put into something like suspended animation while Castiel took the wheel for the rest of eternity. And Jimmy had said yes, to save Claire from that fate. To help save the world from the Apocalypse. He'd chosen the path of heroes and was to be commemorated as one.
"I still destroyed an entire family," he said, voice thick with emotion.
Jack was quiet for a beat. "My existence destroyed my mother's life," he said quietly. "Destroyed her parents' lives, who don't even know she's dead." He took a breath. "But she chose to have me. This Jimmy, he chose to give you his body, his life. And I'm glad he did." Jack offered him a small smile. "I'm glad you're here, with me."
Castiel couldn't help but return the gesture, and reached out to weakly clasp Jack's wrist. "Despite all my regrets, I'm glad they led me to you, too."
A fresh burst of pain lanced through him, and Castiel sucked in a harsh breath with a wince.
Jack laid a hand over his. "Just rest. Sam and Dean are on their way back."
Castiel didn't like the oblivion of unconsciousness, but he couldn't fight it much longer as his body and grace gave out again, pulling him under.
Jack sat on the floor for hours by Castiel's side, only moving to lift the patch of gauze and check the wound. There still wasn't any sign of healing.
At some point, he didn't even know how long it'd been, the bunker door grated open and harried voices called out.
"Jack? Cas?"
He finally got to his feet, knees locking at first. "In here."
Sam, Dean, Mary, and Bobby came hurrying into the library, frantic gazes taking everything in instantly. Mary and Bobby stopped at Nick's body, while Dean rushed straight to Castiel.
"He's still not healing yet," Jack informed them. "I tried to patch him up."
Dean lifted the gauze to inspect the wound, nodding in apparent approval. "What the hell happened?"
"Nick went crazy. Cas thought- he said Lucifer might have left more damage on his psyche than we realized."
Dean's eyes widened with a brief flash of horror, and Jack wondered if he was thinking about Michael. Jack idly wondered about that, too. Why else would the archangel have just let Dean go? Could Michael have left something behind, a way to influence Dean the way Lucifer had Nick?
But that was a matter for another day.
"I didn't want to move him," Jack went on.
Dean gave himself a sharp shake and turned his attention back to Castiel. "No, you did good, Jack."
Sam moved closer and gave him a compassionate look. "You really did, Jack."
"I know you wanted to give Nick a second chance," he said regretfully.
"Yeah, but…" Sam's gaze drifted to Nick's body, and he shook his head. "I knew it was gonna be really hard. I did want to believe he could recover from what he'd been through, but maybe part of me knew deep down that he might have been beyond help."
Again, Jack thought of Dean. But Nick had been possessed for much longer than Dean had, so perhaps things wouldn't be as bad for him.
"He's completely out," Dean commented. "Sam, Bobby, help me get him to his room?"
Jack stepped back as the three hunters worked together to lift Castiel off the floor and carry him toward the dormitory wing. He felt a gentle pressure on his arm and looked over at Mary, who was gazing at him with sympathy.
"We should burn the body," he said.
What gets burned stays dead.
Most of the time.
But it should prove true for this one.
Mary nodded sagely, and they silently began the cleanup. Bobby came out to help them a few moments later, and the three of them made efficient work. Jack assumed Sam and Dean were tending Castiel to fill in the gaps where Jack couldn't. When he was done here, he'd go sit by Cas's side again and wait for him to wake up.
And then when Castiel was better, they could talk about Dean…
