RIDERS OF THE STORM
Part I
The trick is to keep on breathing
Pre-bla-bla: I swore to myself: No, you are NOT gonna write a hiatus story this time, no no no no. But now, with only 40-something days to go until season 7 hits our screens I have a plot-bunny nesting in my brain and it just wants to come out. I know I am gonna literally regret starting this story *lol* because the plot I have worked out so far is HUGE compared to the stuff I normally do. But since I read through all the 6x22 tags and season 7 AU's I could find I need something else to occupy my SPN-hungry mind ^^
SPOILERFREE SPOILER-DEGREE WARNING: The only spoiler that I will include in this story is the general feel/theme of the season. Furthermore I will orient myself to some degree on what Jensen and Jared have shared about where their characters are at as the season starts (their mindset). I won't spoil you about resurrections, big bads or anything plot-related
Further warnings: This Baby will be BIG and therefore NOT finished and wrapped up before Season 7 starts. I think it might actually become an entire Verse *wibbles* Not like 100.000 words (I hope...oh god please...) but it will EASILY reach the 30.000 mark.
Different to my 6x12 hiatus story this one will actually have a thick plot, with many known characters coming in and having hidden agendas and motives and twists and turns along the way.
Official Banner can be found on my profile-page!
Summary: Starts off where 6x22 finale left us hanging and spreads out into my version of the entire Season 7. Sam and Dean centric + many familiar faces, angst, humor, h/c, NO magic fixes or god-saves-the-day , NO Slash, changing POV without overlaps
PLEASE DON'T BE TURNED OFF BECAUSE IT STARTS A LOT LIKE MOST TAGS TO 6x22! IT WILL DEFINITELY BECOME IT'S VERY OWN THING!
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Chapter 1
This is messed up. There is no other way of putting it.
His eyes jump from Sam to Bobby to Cas and back again, searching for a snicker, a grin, some kind of indication that this is just some bad joke he missed the punchline to. The only thing he finds is fear, though. Fear and an unnerving calm as his glance darts back to Castiel's face. The sharp light of the warehouse casts the entire scene in an eerie greenish gleam and maybe his eyes are playing tricks on him after getting his head smashed into the hard metal table, but he could swear that there is an even colder aura radiating off Castiel's skin. The former angel's irises are more of a murky grey than the piercing blue Dean remembers them being as they stare back at him unblinkingly. Did he ever see Castiel blink? He doesn't remember. Yet the lack of humanity in the man he once considered a friend has never been as obvious as it is at this very moment. He pushes down the pang of loss at this realization, wants to feel only the anger burning inside of him for what the angel has done to Sam, to him, to all of them.
Before he can catch himself his lips are moving, forming words he might pay for with his life, but his brain has flown out the window the very second the word GOD took up all the air in the room.
"You want us to bow down to you? Are you seri..."
"Dean!" Bobby's cautioning voice interrupts him before he can seal their fate in his flabbergasted state. He clamps his mouth shut to keep back the well of colourful phrases that are threatening to boil over his tongue. His knuckles are white as chalk as his nails bite into to palm of his hands.
He has never been good in handling betrayal, he knows that. Maybe it's because he can count the number of people he truly trusted throughout his life on a single hand, maybe it's the way he was raised. Whatever it is, the fact remains that when it comes to forgiveness or dealing smartly with the fallout his record isn't exactly stellar. His eyes connect with Sam's and he can see his own thoughts mirrored in his brother's fearful gaze. His mouth tends to overrule his brain and right now that might be the final straw for Castiel to simply blast them off the face of the earth and be done with them once and for all.
He can't risk it. Especially not after Sam did who knows what to snap out of his coma-like state and come for them. So he swallows it down. The pain, the anger and tries to ignore the bitter taste yet another betrayal leaves behind.
Before he can think of anything helpful to say or do Castiel is already turning his attention towards Sam and Dean's tenuous calm tumbles down the drain.
"Stay away from him, you son of a bitch!" He is running, pictures of Sam exploding like Raphael flashing before his eyes.
"Dean, don't!" Bobby's hands are on him before he can take another step, jerking him to a sudden stop. His injured arm screams in pain and he stumbles back to keep himself from face-planting on the blood splattered floor.
"Damnit, Bobby, let me go! Sam!" But his desperate cry goes unheard for the seasoned hunter's grip is merciless. He struggles against the hold, tries to wrestle his way free to put himself between his brother and the advancing angel, but his injury is restricting his movements even further.
With terrified eyes he watches Castiel stride almost languidly towards Sam who seems to be utterly frozen to the spot. The young man's eyes are big as saucers and his entire body is trembling with tension.
"Cas, don't! Please!" He feels one of Bobby's hands lose its grip on the collar of his jacket and wrenches himself free with a tumbling step forward. Yet before he can regain his balance he is being spun around until the horrifying scene in front of him is replaced by the older hunter's fierce face.
"If you don't calm the hell down I will punch your lights out myself, you hear me?" Dean leans back to deliver a well aimed head-butt, then something in the man's tone makes him pause. Underneath all the numbing fear mirroring his own there is a spark of knowing urgency in Bobby's voice. The loud thumping of his heart makes it hard to concentrate and his brows pull together in confusion. Bobby's eyes are practically drilling into him with a silent plea to trust him. Dean can feel himself nodding, deciding to follow the older man's lead even though he has no idea what is going on anymore. Almost reluctantly Bobby's grip eases off, allowing Dean to finally turn is attention back towards his brother.
The room is dead silent apart from Castiel's calm voice.
"I underestimated you. You remember everything, don't you? And yet you are standing upright even without my assistance." Sam's hands are balled into fists. He watches the angel's mouth moving, knows that he should probably say something in return, but the pounding in his head makes it hard to follow the words. If he is quite honest with himself it is nothing short of a miracle that he even made it here in one piece, no pun intended. His vision keeps on flickering and the world around him hasn't stopped spinning since he woke up in Bobby's panicroom. Some part of him wishes he would have just stayed there, curled up in a ball until his brain has had time to catch up with his feet. Instead he is standing in front of an angel, that apparently isn't an angel anymore after delivering a deathblow that turned out to be about as effective as a booster-shot with a migraine that almost makes his knees buckle. Way to go, Sam, way to go.
"I really am sorry it had to come to this, but I had to do this. I had to. You of all people should know." Castiel's words pull the young hunter back into the present. A shiver runs through him when the familiarity of words sinks in. Images of a similar situation flash before his eyes and he has to bite his tongue to not burst out into unbelieving laughter. Even the open and approval seeking expression in Castiel's eyes feels like history repeating itself all over again and Sam feels sick. The muscles in his jaw constrict painfully as he fights with all his might to hold on to the non-existing contents of his stomach.
Suddenly Castiel is right in front of him. With a surprised gasp Sam stumbles backwards. His feet slip on the blood-covered floor and he barely maintains his shaky balance. He thinks he can hear Dean's voice calling out to him, but his entire being is focused on the man in front of him.
"Don't." Sam rasps out as the former angel starts to step closer to him yet again.
Almost childlike Castiel tips his head to the side. His eyes are searching Sam's face with the same steady gaze that has always made the hunter somewhat uncomfortable. Yet there is a new unsettling scrutiny to it, lacking all signs of emotions. Like a scientist who is trying to grasp a complicated math-problem.
"You don't have to be afraid of me, Sam. I am not like them anymore nor have I ever been. You know that. You experienced their wrath, their righteousness."
The pressure in Sam's head increases. His eyes are burning with flickers of red and he scrunches them shut, even though it is the last thing he wants to do with Castiel standing right in front of him.
"Sam!" Dean's worried voice echos through the warehouse and he tries to hang on to that sound, tries to ground himself to the here and now. His self-control is hanging by a thread, but he has to get Dean and Bobby out of here first. With a panting breath he looks back up at Castiel and pushes out through clenched teeth:
"Then prove it."
The former angel's brow furrows in serene confusion.
"What do you mean?"
"Let us go."
Sam tries his best to straighten up further to give more weight to his words. Having said this someone might as well have swapped his bones with lead. His body feels too heavy and one of his knees is starting to buckle. The sound of ripping fabric fills the air and a heartbeat later Dean has materialised beside him.
"Hey, hey, easy. I've got you." Familiar arms are steadying him and he would love to close his eyes and finally give in to the exhaustion dragging him down. First things first, though. Gripping his brother's arm for support he lifts his head and looks squarely into Castiel's eyes.
"Let us walk out of here and prove that you are not like them." His voice has almost dropped to a whisper as he adds: "Zamran rit, ip piamol."
Dean's eyes widen as he stares at Sam's pale face. Either he really hit his head worse than he thought, or his brother just started speaking in a language that sounds far too much like Enochian for comfort. Sam's hand is digging painfully hard into his arm, clearly leaving a full set of fingerprint-shaped bruises behind. His own grip on his sibling isn't much looser while he tries to keep him from tumbling over.
"Very well." He turn his head in the direction of the Castiel's voice only to find the former angel's cold eyes boring into his own. "But you will come to pledge your loyalty to me." With that the former angel turns, gives one ominous nod towards Bobby and...
"What about Sam?" The seasoned hunter visibly flinches when Dean's sudden protest tears through the silence. Castiel on the other hand is his unsettling serene self upon turning back around to face the young man.
"What about him?"
Dean uncomfortably clear's his throat under the former angels scrutiny.
"You said you would fix him. After." One look at Sam is enough to know that his brother is on the brink of passing out on them. His eyes are barely more than slits and even though the trembling has seized, Dean can feel the grip Sam has on him weakening.
"Everything I set out to do has already been accomplished." Castiel declares without batting an eye.
"Are you kidding me, he is barely on his feet!"
"Dean..." Sam's voice is almost inaudible yet enough to make the older Winchester shut up.
"There is nothing more I can do for him." the former angel continues as if nothing has happened. "The rest will be up to him."
A flutter of wings can be heard as he disappears.
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Tbc...
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First of all...I have no idea how Enochian works, so please don't stone me. I will continue using it throughout the story though, simply because I need it for the plot.
Zamran rit, ip piamol = Show mercy, not righteousness
I hope you Guys enjoyed the first chapter. It's more of a prelude than anything else, but well.
I will try to update at least once a week.
More to come!