"Faith is, at one and the same time, absolutely necessary and altogether impossible." – Stanislaw Lem
Connections
In all of his millennia of experience, Castiel never once thought that Sam Winchester's daughter could be even more stubborn than he was.
The first time he had seen her had been several years before, when she had been naught more than a toddler, perched happily atop Dean's shoulders as she smiled brightly out at the world, happy in her child's knowledge that as long as she was with her uncle or parents all was right with the world. At one point Dean had seen fit to hand her over to him, saying that he needed to know what holding a kid was like. Castiel still remembered the gut-clenching unease that he had felt (he would never, ever say fear, because angels are not afraid of small children), as he held that tiny spark of life awkwardly in his hands before Jimmy decided to urge him to hold the light-haired little girl close to his chest. His host had rather smugly proclaimed that one did not hold a child at arm's length like a puppy.
Castiel was fairly certain that Jimmy was just enjoying the fact that he for once knew something that the angel didn't.
However, once he pulled the little girl close to her chest as per instructions, he had been rewarded with a smile full of innocence that only a child could produce. Not too long after that, the toddler, who couldn't have been any more than two at the time, had proceeded to fall asleep in his arms. Dean had laughed long and loud once he had removed his niece from Castiel's arms and both men had noticed the rather generous puddle of drool that she had left behind on the sleeve of the angel's coat.
Castiel frowned slightly as he compared the image of the happily laughing child he had seen that day to the scowling, angry young woman that he was now discretely watching from behind a copse of trees as she fired shot after shot into a paper target tacked onto a tree.
Long, tawny-colored hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, with long bangs falling into a face that was no longer that of a child, but also not a woman's either. A smattering of light brown freckles still flecked her tanned cheeks, obviously having not faded with their fellows upon the emergence into adolescence, and somewhat full pink lips twisted into a furious scowl as a pair of intense green-gray eyes narrowed angrily at the target. She was tall for a woman, roughly around 5'9 or 5'10 when standing fully upright, a trait she had inherited from both of her parents.
Clad in a pair of loose dark-wash jeans, a gray t-shirt, and an unbuttoned blue and green plaid flannel shirt, she cut a mildly impressive figure. Somehow the tomboyish look suited her, although Castiel, having seen her mother in similar garb on countless occasions, knew that it was more for practicality than anything.
By human standards she was probably beautiful, but that was only if one made the fatal error of ignoring the dangerous grace that she exhibited when she moved. Anyone with half a brain and a pair of eyes could tell that this young woman was a predator, and tonight was not a night to willingly offend her.
Castiel did not doubt for one second that she would attempt to eviscerate him if he were to approach her in his usual manner, hence his current caution.
The sound of a fresh clip being jammed into the gun, followed by an ominous-sounding click of the safety being removed as the weapon was aimed in his direction, snapped Castiel out of his brooding.
"I don't care who the hell you are, but I swear to God, if you're looking for a fight, I can tell you right now that you'll be leaving this place in a body bag" the teenager snarled, her eyes focused directly on the copse of trees that had concealed the angel from her gaze. Castiel noted with shock that her eyes were now an inhuman green, flecked heavily with gold as she glared angrily at him. It looked as though she had inherited more than a lanky stature from her mother.
"Be at peace," he stated calmly as he slowly strode towards the young woman, noticing that her eyes widened in blatant surprise as he drew closer before she slammed them shut, wincing slightly as she did so. When she opened them once again, they had returned to their normal dull green hue. Apparently she had discovered for herself that fey Sight was not a good thing to use against an angel, much as her own mother learned by accident had all those years ago.
He could still hear the teasing rebuke that she had offered, all while chuckling softly at her own mistake.
"Jeez Cas, warn me next time, will ya? You almost made me go snow-blind."
Her daughter was not as easy-going as she glared daggers at the angel, fear hidden deep within her eyes as she stared at him. It wasn't fear for herself, but rather fear for those she loved and protected instead.
"What the hell are you?" she demanded softly as she slowly took a step backwards, her entire body rigid as she eyed him warily. "Who are you?"
Castiel was strongly reminded of Dean as he watched the girl, for that was all she really was, as she stared at him suspiciously, her handgun trained on his chest at all times.
"Castiel," he stated simply, repeating the words he had used over two decades ago with a completely different Winchester, one who was older and had seen and experienced far more than even a man of his age ever should have. "I'm an angel of the Lord."
Recognition flickered across the girl's face as she stared at him almost incredulously, followed closely by a look of disbelief.
"Bull," she snarled, somehow managing to lace the one word with an unbelievable amount of contempt as she bared her teeth reflexively. "Angels aren't real. They're just something from one of mom's stories. Because if they were real, then she wouldn't have…"
The young woman trailed off, pain seeping from her tone as she tightened her grip on her weapon before steeling her features into a cold mask. Castiel could still see the raw hurt and agony in her eyes though, how she tried to draw all of pain she was feeling into herself so she could put on a bright face for those who needed her.
Wordlessly, Castiel spread his wings out behind him, somehow managing to illuminate the dark clearing even in the thick evening gloom. The widening of the girl's eyes, as well as her jaw dropping slightly, was all he needed to see to know that she no longer doubted his claim.
"You look a great deal like her, you mother," he began, and noted how her entire body tensed at the comment. "I'm sorry for your loss."
The look on her face softened slightly, but not by much, as she slowly lowered the gun.
"Yeah, everyone is," she muttered harshly as she expertly flicked on the safety and stashed it in the waistband of her jeans. "They all keep saying how she shouldn't have gone out that way, that she was one of the best, how sad it is that they lost a great hunter, but not one of them has ever said that they're sorry for the fact that I've lost my mother." The bitterness and pent-up rage in her voice were enough to chill a demon to its very core, but Castiel could also sense a hint of disgust and self-loathing in there was well. "All of these hunters keep dropping by or calling to tell us how sorry they all are, that it's such a shame that my mother got killed out on a hunt for a Wendigo, that it could happen to anyone, but it's all empty words. All they care about is that one of their own got killed. Not a single goddamn one of them give a flying fuck about the fact that my mom's dead, and now I have to explain to my ten-year old brother why she's never coming home again!"
She was shouting now, unleashing words that he had no doubt that she had kept pent up over the past week, ever since he had heard the news of the Winchester woman's death. Castiel let her, knowing that it was the only way to let the healing process begin.
"And when that stupid bastard who got her killed… when he drove up with her body in the backseat, he didn't even stick around long enough to say anything other than 'Sorry'! That's anyone ever says anymore, is sorry!! I hate that word!" Tears were streaming down her face by the point, tears that been continually held back for the past week. "Sorry doesn't explain to my brother why he couldn't look at his mom one last time before she was cremated! Sorry doesn't change the fact that the only adult who ever gave a damn in my life is gone now! Sorry won't change the fact that my mother was so badly mauled by a Wendigo that we couldn't even have an open casket service! Sorry won't bring back the only mother figure my cousin ever had! Sorry won't make my dad show up, or make him at least go to her funeral! Sorry doesn't do a damned thing… sorry won't bring my mom back, ever!! She's gone, and I can never see her again!!"
Castiel let out a low sigh as he stared at the girl, his expression sympathetic as he stepped forward and embraced the weeping nineteen-year old, pressing her head into the shoulder of his tan trench coat. He vividly remembered the one time that Taylor had ever broken down during the half-year that she had been forgotten, the overwhelming dismay and hopelessness that she had felt the month before her life was to give out, and how Jimmy had mentally urged him to perform the same comforting act that he was now doing with her daughter.
Even though he hadn't changed physically since then, it was almost ironic at how much had changed over the past twenty-one years, while there was still so much that remained the same.
Taylor Harding had been one of the few humans he had ever known, and probably the only human woman who he respected. And for that, he would be more than willing to allow her daughter, who was currently walking that thin, overwhelming border between childhood and adulthood, to soak the shoulder of his overcoat with bitter tears.
"Why?" she sobbed, all of her barriers crumbling before a being that her mother had always told her that she could put her absolute faith in. Castiel said nothing as he held the weeping teen, knowing that he was probably the one thing still allowing her to remain standing. Finally, once the flow of tears had abated somewhat, he allowed her to draw back away from him as she roughly wiped the cuff of her shirtsleeve across her eyes to wipe away the remaining tears.
"Because nothing lasts forever," was his response as he stared solemnly at her.
For several long moments a deep silence hung over the clearing, with the two occupants studying each other intently: with the eldest Winchester child trying to gauge his true purpose, and Castiel doing his best to let the young woman accept his help on her own terms. He had learned a long time ago that to try and force a Winchester into something, into accepting help that they didn't believe that they needed, was useless.
Finally, the girl relaxed and offered him a weak smile before she slowly extended her hand out towards him, a slightly apologetic look on her features.
"You're the one mom called Cas, right?" she questioned softly, and Castiel felt the very human urge to roll his eyes upwards in exasperation at the nickname that Dean had given him. Taylor had perpetuated the nickname, using it frequently. Instead, he gently took the deceptively delicate-looking hand and shook it, noting the young woman's appraising smile at his strong handshake.
"Yes. And you are Alexandra, correct?"
Protector of Mankind. Taylor had chosen a very strong name for her daughter, one that was most certainly apt, given her line of work.
'Alexandra' frowned slightly before she shook her head.
"I usually go by Alex actually, unless I'm in trouble," she corrected with a weak grin, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards. "Sometimes Sammy and Devon call me Lexi, but not very often."
Castiel was strongly reminded of Taylor as he looked at the lanky teen; her body language was almost exactly the same. But, he had never once seen Taylor display such dark pain and despair, or anger, not even when she was slowly having her very essence ripped apart through the efforts of Ruby's meddling.
It only served to further cement the fact in his mind that Alex was not her mother, no matter how strongly she resembled her.
"Devon is your cousin, correct?" he queried, and was rewarded with a small smile. "And Sammy… is your brother."
"Yeah, Dev's a little over a year younger than me, and Sammy's ten."
Castiel nodded at the information, belatedly noticing the curious look that Alex was now giving him as she shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.
"Umm, Cas? Why are you here?" she finally asked, an odd mixture of confusion and hope flashing briefly in her eyes as she stared at the angel. Castiel looked over at the young woman, mentally frowning for a second, before he allowed himself to respond.
"Your mother… made a request to me once," he admitted, cautiously wording the statement carefully. "She asked that I look after you three if anything were to happen to her before you reached a certain age, and to… I believe the term she used was 'check up on you' every once and a while."
Alex nodded absentmindedly in agreement as she smiled wistfully, her expression softening as she looked over her shoulder in the direction that Castiel knew her home lay. It was a bit a of a walk for a human, almost in the far corner of the property that their house was placed on. It was also far enough away to deaden the repeated gunshots that Alex had been creating with her ruthless disposal of the paper target. He knew the remote location of the home was mostly due to the Winchester's extreme caution regarding supernatural attacks, so the amount of warding used on the house had gone unnoticed in a place so sparsely populated.
It also lessened the chance of civilian casualties were something foolish enough to attack the sturdy two-story home.
"Do you want to meet them?" she asked offhandedly, as though it was no big deal if he declined, but the angel knew that it did matter to her. He had heard of Robert Singer's death a few months before, and now Taylor's death as well. If he were to decline Alex's offer to meet with the rest of her family, to introduce the two youngest Winchesters to someone who knew their mother and knew what she had done, but was not a hunter, he knew that he would be fulfilling her failing faith in adults.
He could easily see it in Alex's eyes, the expectation that he was going to leave her behind, just like every other adult in her life had, even though some of them had been removed unwillingly.
"Yes, I do."
The smile that she gave him in response could have lit up an entire stadium. At that moment, Castiel decided that he would do his best to watch over this child, much like he had watched over her own uncle before she was even born. Because right then, he could see the connection between the happily smiling child that he had once held in his arms and the young woman now standing in front of him, well on her way into adulthood.
There was something about her that made her special, something light, even though right now it was hidden behind a heavy veil of sadness and confusion.
Alexandra Winchester was most certainly very much like the adults of her family, even though she probably had little clue about that.
Castiel could see Sam's willful stubbornness and Dean's undying devotion to his family in her, as well Taylor's well-meaning impishness. She had a temper that could have come from any one of them, and she had an undying faith in what she was doing. He hadn't expected her lack of belief in the divine though. Taylor had been a firm believer in God and angels, so much so that she had been incredibly disgusted when she met Uriel.
Although Uriel had been the one stupid enough to call her a mud monkey, as well as bluntly state that she was an abomination who had no right to live, so the disgust had been well-founded.
"You're an angel? Wow, I didn't realize that fucking asshole came in the job description. It's almost enough to make me want to be an atheist."
"Watch your tongue, abomi-"
"Dude, call me that again and I will kick your ass. I don't care if you're an angel, and screw the whole 'blasphemy' bit. I don't question your right to exist, so don't you dare question mine."
Castiel fervently hoped that particular conversation had been left out of Taylor's tales. Before his mind could go off-track once again, he felt Alex grab him by the arm before she gently began to lead him in the direction of her house.
"Just let me do the talking when we get in there, okay?" she stated calmly, any previous traces of her earlier emotional turmoil completely erased. Castiel wanted to scold her for slipping behind the carefree mask that she so frequently donned, but knew that now was not the time for such actions.
"Why?"
"Because Devon's gone into major overprotective mother hen mode," was the blithe response. "For some reason he thinks that I need watching over. And he really doesn't like strange guys coming near me."
Castiel cocked an eyebrow questioningly at that, sensing a story behind the comment, but chose to ignore it. He also chose to ignore the feeling that Jimmy was smirking at him from some hidden corner of his mind.
"Then I hope that you inform him that I am not strange," the angel pointed out. Alex looked over her shoulder and grinned at him, a grin that was just as impish as her mother's ever was.
Somehow, he had the nagging feeling that his meeting with this particular generation Winchesters was going to just as memorable as the previous one.
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Just a little one-shot that my brain came up with while I was brooding over life and death. This is what happens when I get all depressed and broody, which is why I try not to let that happen very often.
I was thinking over how life is so short, mainly because a family member has recently been diagnosed with a terminal illness, and my line of thought eventually lead to how hunters tend to lead fairly short lives. Then my mind went to what would happen if Sam and Dean had kids and how they would take death in the family. And thus, this story was born.
I purposely kept the identity of Alex's mother as secret as possible, but it is a reference to a character in another Supernatural fanfic I'm working on. Both Alex and her mother posses the Sight, which is due to the faint remnants of Fey blood in her mother's heritage. To make a long story short, the Sight allows one to see things hidden in illusion, or to view supernatural beings for what they really are. Their eyes change color when they're using the Sight, so neither one of them use it all that often, at least unless they're going up against something really nasty. So, what happened in the clearing when Alex was using the Sight is that she caught a good glimpse of Cas's true form, but not enough to burn her eyes out like what happened to that psychic Pamela.
Castiel is still inhabiting Jimmy, who as a result of his angelic 'possession' has not aged, which is why Castiel hasn't changed at all.
Alex is Sam's daughter, and is nineteen years old. Sometimes her brother and cousin call her Lexi, but its nickname that it practically forbidden to anyone outside of the family. Generally she's pretty friendly; albeit a bit sarcastic, but when she's on a hunt she's dead serious and will see it through to the end. Ironically, she's a lot like Dean personality-wise, especially when it comes to the younger members of her family. Her general rule for any fugly that comes anywhere near her little brother or cousin is 'Touch them and die'. She has a grudge against her father the size of Mt. Everest, mainly because she hasn't seen her father or uncle since she was eight years old after they left for a hunt and never came back, leaving her mother to raise the three of them alone. She idolizes her mother, who was also a hunter, and according to Alex 'a damn good one'. Alex also has one hell of a temper, and could technically be classified as a force of nature when she's pissed off. She's been the last thing several fuglys have ever seen over the years after she started hunting.
Devon is Dean's son, and is seventeen, almost eighteen years old. Devon lives with his aunt and two cousins due to the fact that he never knew his mother, who was one of Dean's one-night stands (We all knew it was going to happen sooner or later). He's like his father in a lot of ways, such as his taste in cars and music, as well as general appearance, but he's usually pretty shy around girls. His hair is light brown, and it's pretty shaggy, although not nearly as shaggy as Sam's. He sees Alex and Sammy as his siblings, especially since he grew up with both of them. Devon has a great deal of respect for his father, unlike Alex, although this has been helped by the fact that Dean has at least sent Devon a few letters over the years, whereas Sam has had no contact with his family in eleven years. He is the calmer of the two oldest Winchesters, and is often charged with the task of keeping Alex from going off half-cocked when she's angry. Devon is the strategist, while Alex is the researcher, but they both can take care of themselves in a fight.
Sammy is Sam's son, and is ten years old. Sam left a few months after he was born on the hunt that he and Dean never returned from, and as a result Sammy knows very little about his father. All he knows, asides from the stories told to him by his mother, is that his sister hates their father with an unholy passion, so he usually tries to avoid asking Alex any questions about him. To give Alex credit though, she at least attempts to answer her brother's questions about their father, but most of the time her typical response is 'ask Mom'. Sammy is, as his name insinuates, almost a mini-Sam, but he has hazel-green eyes instead of his father's brown ones. He knows what's out there, and will sometimes help with the preparation and research for a hunt, but he has been expressly forbidden from hunting until he at least reaches thirteen. Alex doesn't want her brother hunting because he has a very gentle nature, and she sees an innocence in him that she no longer has. Sammy adores his sister and his cousin, and brags about them frequently to his friends at school. Alex and Devon both joke that that will change once he hits puberty.