An Apostle of the Lord, Chapter 1
"I'm expecting crocodiles to come charging at us," said Dean, looking around at the swampy landscape they were wading through. The Winchester brothers were demon hunting in northern Arkansas, with angel Castiel walking somberly behind them.
"You won't find crocodiles this far north," assured his brother Sam. "And even if there were, they wouldn't be crocodiles. They'd be alligators."
"I'm so assured." It mattered not to Dean, actually. He was armed for anything-demon or monstrous creature.
"True. You guys need to watch for rattlesnakes." Sam and Dean looked up to see a stranger. With large ears and bulbous nose, thinning white hair and unremarkable features that defied placing an age on him, it wasn't surprising they hadn't noticed him. But the bright red jacked-up Jeep he was sitting on the hood of should have drawn their attention from far away. And the back road it sat on would've been much more convenient than the long hike they had taken, but Dean wasn't going to let 'Baby' get that muddy.
"You're Sam and Dean Winchester and you're looking for Angie Barton. But I need her instead." The stranger noticed Castiel coming up behind them. "I don't know you."
Castiel considered the situation and announced, "I'm Castiel, an angel of the Lord."
"Small world, I'm Timothy, an apostle of the Lord. I can draw out demons, speak in tongues, and at parties I can walk across your pool and change the water into whiskey." Satisfied that those words were sufficient, the stranger turned his attention back to Sam and Dean. "I'm here for Angie. Her body hasn't been possessed for long and her soul wants it back. I'm here to arrange that."
"There she is." Castiel pointed towards Sam and Dean, who turned to look behind themselves-in time to see the familiar dark smoky essence being drawn from her mouth and eyes. It passed between them and gathered into a black rubber-looking ball in "Timothy's" upraised hand.
"Hold this Dean. Don't squeeze it." The stranger handed the object to Dean and walked on to Angie, leaving Dean to roll the ball over and over in his hand. Dean wondered if it could somehow possess him, but nothing happened. He looked to Sam who just shrugged his shoulders.
The stranger took Angie to his Jeep, helped her up into the vehicle, and went to the back to rummage through the boxes stashed there. "Coffee or hot chocolate?"
"Hmm?"
"Coffee or hot chocolate?" The stranger held up a thermos.
"Coffee?"
"Okay" The stranger opened the thermos stuck his finger in and walked around the Jeep. "It's smells good and strong. You like it black?"
"No. Maybe hot chocolate?"
"Can do." He cheerfully took the thermos back and, out of sight, poked his finger in the thermos again and returned to the woman. "Hot chocolate. Sorry, no marshmallows." He handed the thermos to her and pointed out a cup for her to pour the drink into.
As Angie sipped from the cup and expressed her approval over the former-coffee-now-chocolate, "Timothy" looked back towards the brothers.
Sam was poking fun over Dean being stuck holding the squishy Demon ball, and stepped back for more room to dodge if Dean decided to throw the black mass at him. He stepped into a deep mucky spot and brought his foot up minus his boot. "Aw, man! I lost my shoe!" Castiel leaned over the hole pondering over whether he really wanted to reach in to retrieve it.
"Am I going to have to start tying your shoes for you again?" Dean laughed so hard at the sight he squeezed the glob too tightly and it splurted black goo all over his face and body.
"I know a circus that'd appreciate this clown troupe," the stranger whispered to Angie. She smiled faintly, still not totally recovered from her possession. He walked back to the rear of the Jeep and rummaged through boxes again, this time pulling out a box of plastic bags.
The stranger walked over to Castiel, who had finally decided to swish his hand around in the muck and pulled out Sam's boot. "Put the boot in this bag, Castiel. Sam, put this one around your foot. Angie! Move into the back seat. Sam's coming with us. You're on your own Dean; you smell like swine farts and I'm not gonna try to clean the smell outta my Jeep."
He did walk over to Dean and ran a finger through the goo on Dean's face. The black mass pulled onto the stranger's finger and, after the rest was collected from the Dean's clothes in the same manner, it recollected into a ball in the stranger's hand. This time it became firmer, then became glassy and watery, then finally evaporated totally into the air. He turned and walked back to his Jeep. "Come on, Sam. I've gotta get Angie back in contact with her family."
Soon Dean and Castiel began their trek back to Dean's car. Dean looked back to see the red Jeep departing, with a woman's blond hair showing through the back window, both of Sam's bare feet sticking out the passenger window, and something sounding horrifically like jazz band music wafting out of the open top.
"Timothy, an apostle of the Lord?" Dean said sarcastically to Castiel.
"He told the truth," replied Castiel. They continued on and considered what had just happened.