Author's Note: Um, I don't know what possessed me to write a fic for Supernatural. The fandom is so full of possibilities, I know. But, still... All well. I'll run with it. Just so you know, this is an AU in the sense that Castiel is an angel (of course), but a different caste, with different responsibilities, etc. In fact... he is Earth-bound from the start. He will be mostly in character, but in (possible) future stories in this realm his personality will flourish slightly differently.
Story Settings: It isn't prominent in this story because it's only a snap-shot of sorts, an introduction if you will, but some mythology is fabricated, added and/or twisted to fit my desire. In any (possible) future expansions, the AU differences will be further elaborated upon.
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all of its characters belong to other people who happen to not be me. I am not the most gifted of writers, but what I do give, I give out of a willingness to make others happy. So, that being said, I hope you all enjoy!
It isn't a part of his Assignment; watching the Winchester home. If he is to be honest with himself, completely honest, he has no real reason or obligation to be in Kansas at all. Even with the smell of sulfur filling the air, or that rich aura of darkness that sprinkles the atmosphere and is steadily getting stronger, seeming to center around said home.
I am not supposed to be here, Castiel thinks, standing on the opposite side of the street. I have other requests to fulfill before the night is over. His feet do not move, nor do his wings twitch as the thought runs through his mind, however.
Standing in his ethereal form, the angel has cloaked himself, remaining invisible to mortal eyes.
His entire attention is trained on the house, though. Gaze unwavering and arms paired at his sides, Castiel cannot bring himself to look away. Maybe later he will look back and wonder at his behavior, or what propelled him stay in the first place.
Now, all he can do is watch. What he is watching for he does not know. But he continues to do so anyway.
In the bottom window, facing the yard, the angel can see faint flickering light through the silk curtains and surmises one of the Humans, possibly an adult due to the late hour, is still up.
Minutes pass, and without warning Castiel's grace swirls fervently, flickering silvery-blue wisps of light and energy around his body. Though he is invisible to mortal eyes, had any Humans been around they most likely would have felt the warmth of his grace, or been taken aback over the startling flow of energy seizing their limbs.
Something is in the Winchester home. No- someone.
On instinct alone, Castiel moves to the yard of the house and tilts his head to look at one of the top windows. His eyes narrow, and suddenly his grace is touched by the sense of alarm and fear.
Emotions that are emanating from someone else.
A scream pierces the air, and on reflex Castiel moves towards the front door even as his conscience tries to remind him being here isn't specifically Assigned to him.
When he stretches out his hand to push through the front door, he is pushed back.
What?
Castiel tries again, and again he is forced back by some invisible barrier.
Am I being turned back because this is not my domain? Castiel wonders, moving back onto the front yard and looking up at the top window, where flames are now flickering out of.
His attention is stolen by the sound of the front door blasting open and a young Human boy stumbling out of the house. In his small arms is a little bundle wrapped in a blue blanket.
The little boy's face is pale and his startling green eyes wide with shock and uncertainty. His golden-brown hair flies askew in his speed to distance himself from the house, and little puffs of air cloud around his face from the slightly chilled night air with every ragged breath that escapes his partially open mouth.
Almost immediately the air around Castiel shifts just so, and he is bombarded with the boy's unconscious request.
Help me.
This is something he is Assigned to do- though why the request itself is so powerful, so loud he does not know. All he can do is what he is created for- to help and to mend.
The little boy turns his head back to face the house, and Castiel takes a moment to uncloak himself, while simultaneously dampening his grace so as not to overload the Human boy's senses.
Though Human children have senses developed to view the spiritual with better than adults, he does not wish to cause any harm to come to the mortal boy. That would go against the very reason he exists.
When the boy turns his head around, his eyes snap to Castiel and his little legs comes to an abrupt halt. Fear clouds his eyes, and he takes a step back, unconsciously clutching the bundle- which Castiel now sees is a baby –closer to his chest.
Castiel can see that, while the boy's eyes had been dry before, they are starting to brim with tears now.
"Peace," Castiel says, letting some of his own warmth and energy stretch across the distance between them to encompass the Human boy wholly. Within seconds Castiel can see his little body relax gently, and even though the fear and sadness marring his soul remains, it is somewhat dimmed beneath tranquility Castiel gifts him with.
Slowly, Castiel moves closer until he is kneeling before the little boy. He knows he only has precious moments before the father- whose soul is still vibrant and quite alive in its mortal casing-leaves the home to come after his children.
Castiel looks deeply into the boy's eyes, seeing fragments of events before the present moment, before coming back to the moment at hand. The little boy's eyes are still wary, but he doesn't move away.
"You're really bright. W-who are you?" he murmurs, his voice shaky. Castiel bows his head slightly, though he keeps his eyes on the boy.
"My name is Castiel," he confides, only the second time he has ever done so with an owner of a request. He is allowed to watch over and guard- but actually being with his charges in a more than formal relationship is heavily frowned upon.
This time, however, seeing the little boy's fear and still sensing the powerful request resonating in his grace, Castiel sees no reason not to tell him. If it will instill some measure of comfort, then so be it.
Most likely after this night the boy will forget ever meeting him anyway.
The little boy hitches his little sibling higher up, the weight somewhat heavy for his small arms. He does not take his eyes off of Castiel, even as the sound of shattering glass explodes above them.
For a moment, despite how small and unsure he appears to be, the little boy's stare is as penetrating and intense as any of Castiel's celestial siblings.
"I'm Dean…" the little boy whispers. His eyebrows lift and for a split second a flash of something bright and full of hope flares in his eyes. "Are you… you gonna help us, Cassiel?" Dean asks, still in a whisper, slightly miss-pronouncing Castiel's name.
Castiel lowers his eyes.
"I will do what I can," he answers honestly.
No sooner do the words leave his mouth when his eyes focus in on Dean's left arm. Having worn a short-sleeved shirt, his pale forearm is darkened and red with a burn. In his haste to get out of the house, he must not have even noticed the pain.
"May I?" Castiel asks softly, holding his hand out slightly to hover over the injured limb. Looking slightly confused, Dean looks and his face is one of surprise as he sees the burn he did not notice before.
"Okay," he whispers, his eyes shifting back over to the house finally. Castiel can feel the worry for his father wafting off of Dean, distracting him somewhat.
Castiel reaches out and places his hand gently on the burn. As soon as the physical flesh and his ethereal form meet, a golden hue sparks between the space of contact, and Dean lets out a moan before he can stop it.
Something powerful and ancient- before Castiel, before his very creation –resonates and his grace is suddenly overwhelmed with an entire sense of Dean.
"Cassiel…" the boy murmurs, his eyelids drooping slightly as if he is about to fall asleep. Peace and a remarkable sense of rightness overwhelms the angel, and for just a moment he cannot stop himself from leaning in to rest his forehead against the Human child's.
The burn is already healed.
"Your father shall return to you," Castiel informs Dean, his voice sounding breathy. The little boy's skin is warm and soft. Dean hums something unitelligeable. "I must take leave, now."
Startled, Dean reaches out to clasp Castiel's wrist in his small hand. His grip is surprisngly strong. Again, a sheen of golden light flares from the contact of their skin briefly, before fading.
"You leaving?" Dean says, and Castiel's grace swirls uncomfortably at the transparent distress in his voice and the look of utter devastation on his face.
"I must," Castiel says, moving to stand to his feet. He takes a step back, but Dean simply takes a step forward.
"Will I see you again, Cassiel?" Dean asks, though Castiel muses it sounds more like a demand. "You'll come back to me?" In Castiel's grace, the unmistakable pull of the request being expanded upon flares, and the angel feels himself bowing to the force of its will.
Castiel could sooner tear off his own wings than refuse the request's power.
"I…" Castiel pauses. "I shall come around and visit you, if that is what you wish. I will never be too far from you."
And as the words leave him, Castiel knows it is the truth. He cannot explain it, but something about this little boy completely pulls at him, like the irreversible pull of gravity itself. His grace flares momentarily, swirling around to encompass the boy in a bath of light and warmth.
The boy nods, his shoulders relaxing under the blanket of light.
"Okay," he says so softly, pulling his hand away to wrap back around his little brother tightly instead. The front door bursts open again, and when Dean turns to look in its direction, Castiel immediately shrouds himself in his cloak.
Dean's father bursts across the yard, scooping up his children in his strong arms and tears across the street.
Feeling himself being called elsewhere even as the chaos unfolds around him, people coming out into the streets and gawking, Castiel takes some small measure of comfort of seeing Dean peaking over his father's shoulder in his direction.
Even though the angel is sure Dean cannot see him, the little boy lifts a small hand and gives a small wave regardless. His eyes pierce through the darkness, looking at where Castiel is standing, and then he lowers his head onto his father's shoulders.
His eyes close in exhaustion, and within seconds he is out of Castiel's sight.
Castiel bows his head in a small sign of farewell.
Until we meet again, Dean Winchester, the angel thinks.
In a flash of light still invisible to mortal eyes, the angel disappears.
END.
So... ? What do you think? I was nervous about posting this, but it came to me and refused to budge. I hope it was decent, and that I kept the characters... in character. Haha.
I hope you enjoyed yourselves.
And, on that note... I think I might just return to The Avatar instead...