Book One: Hunter's Moon
Prologue
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
Perhaps it was to be expected with magics and powers that had not been properly stirred for millennia suddenly converging in a violent and unprecedented conflict but none of the affected were prepared when their realities started to slide together.
Barriers that had once been fixed slid and melded and space and time were malleable in ways that they had not been since the beginnings of the worlds themselves.
It started out as a soft buzzing, like a breath of wind against his ear, growing louder as time passed.
:Cas.:
:Cas, are you there?:
:Can you hear me, Cas?:
:Goddamnit Cas! Answer me! I'm freaking out down here!:
:Cas!:
And Castiel would fully admit that he was foolish for not paying closer attention to the whispers, but, in all fairness, it had been several hundred years since anyone had prayed to him specifically, and he was unused to the sensation. Not to mention the shortening of his name.
It wasn't until later, after the flutter of words against his ear had stopped for a while and then suddenly came back full force, that he took more than a passing notice of them.
:Castiel— please. Castiel please, I need your help here. I can't do this—I can't handle this on my own.:
And, attention caught by the pleading tone and the use of his full name Castiel realized that there was in fact someone praying to him for help. Him specifically.
It was a small matter of will to find the human soul calling for him and Castiel was surprised to find that it was one he recognized by reputation, if not by anything else. Dean Winchester, the Sword of Michael.
The young hunter was sitting with his head between his knees in a motel room in Louisiana and he looked terrible both physically and metaphysically.
Dean Winchester's soul should not look so worn, was Castiel's first protest, nor should it have been darkened around the edges by curling wisps of black smoke that spoke of time spent in Hell. If the infernal forces had taken any of the Winchester line the Garrison most certainly and possibly the entire Host would have been alerted.
Even more puzzling was the fact that even though Dean Winchester had never once come in contact with him he was almost glowing with residual grace that spoke of close dealings with an angel. His soul was practically bathed in it. And Castiel recognized that grace to be his own.
Confused and maybe even a bit alarmed Castiel pulled his attention away from Dean Winchester. He considered reporting his findings to a superior, but thought it unwise to call attention to the situation when he wasn't sure what was going on. Uriel especially had a tendency to act without thinking things through, and Castiel didn't want to incite anyone into rash action.
What he did know was that the prayers of Dean Winchester were meant for him. Only he could hear the hunter's soul voice whispering into his ear. None of the other angels could hear his words which meant that the words were for Castiel and Castiel alone. And Dean Winchester's soul voice was—compelling.
The next time Castiel heard it was on a Thursday, the day under his domain. And from what he could tell some time had passed on Earth. Dean was calmer, less frantic, and Castiel wondered absently what had first pushed him into the grips of panic.
:Cas, no I should probably call you Castiel shouldn't I, since we haven't even met yet. Maybe you know me, maybe you don't, I don't know, but in a different time or universe or something—hell, if I know what—you and I were friends. Good friends, I'd like to think.:
This is a revelation for Castiel, who hadn't known it was possible for mortal to traverse the fabric of reality, even with magic, and who didn't understand how he'd come to be friends with one. Though he didn't doubt Dean Winchester's truthfulness. The evidence Castiel had gathered was all in support of his outlandish claims.
:Anyway I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I don't want that to change. You're always telling me to have more faith, so I guess I'm just gonna have to trust that you can hear my prayers. That you're even listening. And I know you've probably got better things to be doing than listening to me so I'll make it short.:
:I figured out where and when I am two days ago, and I think you're probably still under orders not to leave Heaven. Well, I got my own set of marching orders yesterday, from Dad, and I'm going to go get Sam. Try and save him and Jess from Old Yellow Eyes if I can. I'm going to try and change things. Even—even though it might mean that we never meet. I mean, if Sammy doesn't die you don't need to get my ass out of the Flame Pit, right? And maybe that's better for everyone involved.:
:Anyway, I'll talk to you again. Next Thursday. Bye Cas—Castiel, sorry.:
And then like that Dean Winchester's voice left—his intent no longer on reaching Castiel. And Castiel found himself turning his focus towards the hunter, although he was not permitted to interfere on Earth, he could and would watch. After all he was more than a little intrigued.
AN: Just a little teaser prologue to sort of set the scene. Please review and let me know what you think!