Title: The Apostle of Tarsus
Author: Sailorhathor
Fandoms: Supernatural/Miracles Xover
Pairing: Sam Winchester/Theresa Callan
Rating: Adult (R)
Word Count: 31,721 total
Warnings: A few Het sex scenes that are graphic in an R-rated way. Language. Spoilers for a few episodes of "Miracles." Takes places mid-season 5 of SPN.
Summary: Sometimes, when I think of what Castiel did to us, I want to kill him. But most days, I thank him.
Author's Notes: This story has a sequel that will be released in a few weeks, so please don't kill me for the mega cliffhanger. :D Chapters 1-4 were betaed by Sammie. wine_into_water and tvsgrady gave it a good readthrough and provided some helpful impressions. Thanks to them, and to Nicky for providing the German and French.
The idea for this story came to me about November of 2010. I've been working on it ever since then. It may be one of my favorite crossover ideas ever.
For the record, Theresa Callan is not an OC. Many aspects of her personality and character makeup come right out of the "Miracles" series. Her name is on Paul's dossier from "The Friendly Skies." We got a brief glimpse of her when Paul dreamed about her death in "Mother's Daughter." We know she was a devout Catholic who attended Father Calero's church. We know she died of cancer one week before Paul's fifth birthday, and that she had arranged with Father Calero for Paul to live under his care at the orphanage after she died. An online friend of mine purchased the original script for "Hand of God" off Ebay, which provides several facts about Theresa that were cut out of the final version - Paul says she loved roses and tuna casserole, and that she had told him his father was a very bad man who lived far, far away from them, which was for the better. The rest, I made up.
Told from Sam's first person POV. Takes place in a completely different universe from any other SPN/Miracles 'verse I've created.
Chapter 1: Chasing Destiny
Words: 4,218
Angels lie.
I bet you didn't know that. Probably didn't even think it was possible, not after all the TV you've seen of Michael Landon and Roma Downey playing perfect little angels, the most moral creatures ever created, right? They save people who aren't meant to die and set things right.
Heck, you probably didn't even know they actually exist. It's not like everyone hangs around with them, has been pushed around and beaten up by them, has had their existence shoved down their throats.
I probably shouldn't get so mad at Castiel. He only did what he thought was right. But sometimes, I can't help it.
I should explain about myself. My name is Sam Winchester, and practically since my birth, my family has been hunting down dangerous and evil supernatural creatures. A lot more of them exist than you would ever want to admit to yourself, trust me. It may just be easier for you to keep your head in the sand if you can - you'll sleep easier at night. If you knew everything that I know, you'd be up all night, patrolling your house with a shotgun and checking on your kids every five minutes. No, it's probably better if you don't know what lurks out there in the dark.
I had no choice in the matter.
Angels cannot move around on Earth without the benefit of a human host; otherwise, they'd be too-bright balls of light flying around, burning out the eyes of the populace. Seriously, looking upon them in their natural form burns your eyes out of your head - I've seen it happen. Castiel is one of these angels who came to Earth to act as some sort of advisor to my brother and me. He took a host, or a "vessel" as they call them, a man named Jimmy Novak. This will be important later.
It's a really long story how the Apocalypse began, but it did, in the year 2009. You're probably thinking I've totally flipped, believing in a real Apocalypse, but if you look at the events of that time, you'll see there were a lot of strange things going on. Fire raining from the sky, entire towns wiped out overnight...
My brother and I - my brother's name is Dean - found out we were vessels as well; it runs in the bloodline down from Biblical times. The angels said it was destiny. In many ways, for us, it was Hell.
Dean. How can you express how much you love a person, how important they are in your life, with mere words? He's always been there for me. Always had my back. Has taken more shit from me than he ever deserved, more than anyone else ever has. And still, Dean's there, ready to forgive. I love him so much. I hope we never get separated by the hunting life again.
Anyway, we found out we were vessels, destined to act out the end of the Apocalypse together. Dean, it turned out, was the vessel of Michael the Archangel. Yes, the Michael. And I was lucky enough to be the vessel of Lucifer. Yeah, that Lucifer. Satan. The Devil. If that blows your mind, think of how I felt. The man who is destined to be the vessel of a creature like that must be a horrible man, you're probably thinking.
Right?
You may not believe me, but it is possible for that man to be a good person. Someone who would never want to act as the devil's meat suit, but was fated to do so by a destiny he didn't want. Dean and I were supposed to act our parts and accept the warring brother angels into our bodies, and be puppeted into a war they had been preparing to fight for over two thousand years. The very idea perverted everything we had built over our lives. Two brothers who fought to save the world, being forced to destroy it. Dean and I had no intention of doing that.
There came a day in early 2010 that Castiel came to us and said that he knew of a man, a very important man, who had been fated to help save the world. I brought up the fact that the angels had said that Dean would be the one to do this, the one who put Lucifer back in Hell, that prophecy had said it would be Dean, but Cas responded that Dean would do it with help. It seemed that Chuck the Prophet had received a new vision.
Yeah, I know. The Prophet Chuck? It's kinda funny.
We all set out for Boston the next day, where this man would be found. Castiel said his name was Paul Callan, and he worked for a paranormal investigation group called Sodalitas Quaerito. Say that three times fast! Or, just say SQ, like we do. The group consisted of Alva Keel, Evelyn Santos, and Paul. Castiel said that Paul had been having psychic visions of the coming Apocalypse, so he wouldn't be that surprised when we walked in.
Even so, I didn't expect Paul's overdramatic reaction when we entered that office. His eyes got big, and he backed away, looking like he was about to throw up. "You," he said. "It's you."
"You've been having dreams about the vessels," Castiel stated matter-of-factly, almost like he didn't even have to guess at any of the coming events.
"Yes," Paul replied. He pointed at Dean and I with a shaking finger. "You're the vessel of Michael the Archangel," Paul said when he indicated Dean. Then he looked at me. I don't think I've ever seen him so afraid. "And you're..." was all he said, and turned and ducked away into another room, where he stayed for nearly twenty minutes.
We all gave Paul some time to recover. Truthfully, I needed the time myself as well. It was never easy to have people react to you that way, when they found out who you were. But it was to be expected, with Paul being raised as a Christian in the Catholic faith.
Dean and I told Alva Keel everything we knew about the Apocalypse. The woman, whom they called Evie, stood by and listened, not saying much. She seemed to defer to Mr. Keel a great deal. It was obvious he was the major brains of the operation, but that didn't mean the other two didn't have strong opinions of their own. It just meant that Mr. Keel had a great deal of knowledge on the supernatural, and his associates knew it.
His looks were quite striking. I don't mean that in a drooly sort of way, just that the man had piercing blue eyes and a strong chin, with a slight European accent which turned out to be Scottish. He made a definite impression on me.
"When Paul began having these dreams, I knew they were serious," he said. "It's still quite a shock to have you all walk right into the office one day."
Dean and I nodded. "I can imagine," I added.
Evie couldn't stop looking at Castiel, a little uneasy. She too had a striking appearance, but more for how pretty she was, one of those people you think could have been a model if they had that ambition. Long, curly black hair and a very attractive face. When there was a lull in our conversation, she spoke up. "Are you really an angel?" she asked Cas.
Castiel nodded. "Yes, I am an angel of the Lord. Paul told you that?"
"Yes." She looked him up and down. "Said you dressed like Columbo. I couldn't believe it, but..."
Castiel glanced from one person to another. "Columbo?" he said.
Leaning over to him, Dean whispered, "TV character. He wears a trench coat too."
"Oh."
Paul came out of the office then. He still gave me those looks, like it was too overwhelming to even lay eyes upon me. But we tried to have a civilized conversation.
Paul's appearance is a bit soft, with deep brown eyes and high cheekbones. Very boyish, very youthful. He has his mother's smile. I trusted him in an instant, and I couldn't have even told you why, not then. I did everything I could to set him at ease.
"Mr. Callan, have you ever been put in a situation where people kept telling you things were going to happen one way, but you knew that way was wrong?" I asked him.
He thought about it a second, and then leaned back against a desk and let out a small laugh. Some memory, a bitter one it seemed by his expression, came to him then. "Yeah."
"Did people ever tell you you were destined to become something you never imagined for yourself?"
Again, he took a short time to think about that, tapping lightly at his bottom lip with two fingers. He looked up at me and replied, "Yes. There was this boy, and he said that..." The memories flooded his mind and got him all choked up; Paul took a moment to swallow down the emotion that constricted his throat. "Never mind, it's a very long story."
"I'd be willing to listen if you want to tell me."
"No, no, it's too much to tell. Just know that once, I was involved in a bad situation where certain individuals tried to get me to believe I was destined to kill a whole group of people simply because they had experienced a rare paranormal event. That it would be for the best of all humanity that they die. For a time, I... I started to believe that these individuals were right.
"You might think that would make a man feel good, knowing he was chosen to save the world, but... not me. I didn't want that job. There was so much left up to chance, so much to question. Would I be doing the right thing? What if these individuals were wrong, what if the message didn't mean what it seemed to mean, would I be damning myself to Hell if I killed these people? And could I even do it?" He looked me in the eyes then, very seriously. "It's one thing to tell a man to kill others because they are evil. It's another thing to actually do it."
I nodded in complete understanding. "It's a very hard choice to make."
Now Paul nodded.
I added, "Imagine being one of those people who experienced the rare paranormal event. Someone thinks you're evil, and you know you're not. You're just a pawn in someone else's game. Nothing you can help. You just want to be good. But they keep telling you you're not."
To that, Paul sat back against the desk again, his arms crossed, and thought about my problem. It didn't take long for him to look up at me with a sorrowful expression upon his face. "That must be very tough for you."
Finally, he understood my point of view. "It most definitely is."
Shortly after, the mood was lightened by Paul and Castiel having a bowing contest. Paul wanted to bow to the holy angel, and Castiel said it was he who should praise God while in Paul's presence. First, Paul got down on one knee and lowered his head, then Castiel did the same. It was quite comical. But it did lead to Paul asking why Cas would even want to praise God and all that just for being in the same room with him.
"You are a very important man, Paul Callan," Castiel replied.
"People have been saying that for years. What does it mean, Castiel?" He looked so desperate and lost at that moment; it tears my heart out to think about it. "Why am I different? Please tell me."
Cas looked at Dean and I, and then back at Paul. He seemed to be unsure that he should tell him anything about his destiny. The angel chose his words carefully. "It's possible... very possible... that you are one of the most crucial vessels who ever lived. The fate of the world may rest with you, Dean, and Sam."
Paul reeled. Putting a hand over his mouth, he began to laugh, his eyes glistening with overwhelmed tears. "What? What kind of vessel am I?"
"I shouldn't tell you."
"Castiel, please, I'm begging you - "
Suddenly, Cas became very serious; it was obvious he was going to be immovable on this issue. "No. No, I'm sorry Paul, but I shouldn't have even told you that. It can be dangerous to know too much about your own destiny. Just know that when the time comes, you'll know to say yes."
"Say yes to who?"
Castiel only repeated himself. "When the time comes, you'll know."
Paul couldn't help it, and began to cry at that moment. I wished I could comfort the guy. Evie put an arm around him and ushered him out of the room where he could weep in peace for a little while.
I understood. I knew what my destiny was. Paul didn't. It's a lot of pressure, to be told something like that, and not even know who it is you are supposed to say yes to.
Later, Paul came back. He wanted to know why Dean and I had gotten into our line of business. I suppose it was a way of changing the subject. Dean told most of the story, about how our mother had been burned alive on the ceiling of my nursery back in 1983 by a demon named Azazel. Paul recognized the name from some extra books of the Bible that had not been accepted as canonical. That made his eyes get big again. Apparently, those books were real. Dean explained how the event had sent our father on a quest to find that demon, and kill him, and how we had gone along for the ride. Our entire lives had been about fighting evil, Dean, since he was four, and me, practically since birth.
Something about that made Alva speak up, telling us his own story. "When I was in school at Cambridge, my minor was Linguistics. I was analyzing patterns of bird song. Field ravens. The easiest way to do that was to sit in a field and record their chattering... listen to it back and make note of the patterns... and find meaning in those patterns. An ambitious project. I had no idea how it would change my life.
"My mother had passed away in 1984. When I was a child, she read to me from a storybook about a bloodhound named Mango. I loved that book." Mr. Keel laughed a little; his eyes were far away, remembering. "On November 21, 1985, the sounds on my tapes changed. Among the raven song were voices. Human voices."
"EVP?" Dean asked.
"Yes. Among those voices, I heard the voice of my dead mother. She kept saying, 'Mango.' That's all, just, 'Mango.' This is why I became a paranormal researcher. The strength of one word. I'm still searching for an explanation."
"Yeah." The story seemed to touch my brother on a level he wasn't used to acknowledging. "I would think you would. Your mother, calling to you... and she doesn't tell you why."
"It must be hard," I said. "But maybe she just wanted to say hello, and nothing more. Maybe it doesn't mean anything bad."
"It's hard to believe that, wouldn't you say? I mean, your mother calls to you from the grave, she must need something." Mr. Keel said it so matter-of-factly, and the look on his face... it tugged at my heart. I wished I had answers for him, just to calm those troubled eyes. To finally bring him the peace for which he'd searched for so long.
Paul spoke up then. "Huh. I never really thought about this, but my mother's death is fairly mundane when compared with both of yours. There was no demon to chase or voice from the grave. Just a regular human disease that kills millions." He wasn't trivializing her death, only reflecting over the differences.
"What happened?" I asked.
He took a deep breath. "My mother got a brain tumor in early 1978. She was gone within a matter of months. I went to live at the orphanage after that; I mean, I was barely five. Couldn't take care of myself."
"Where was your father?" Dean questioned.
Paul got a troubled, angry look in his eyes in reaction to that; his eyebrows dipped in the middle and he crossed his arms across his chest. "I don't know. He was never there. I remember seeing the other kids playing with their dads and asking my mother why didn't I have a daddy? Where had my father gone? And she said that he didn't want to have anything to do with us, that he had gone far, far away, and that was how it should be, because he was a very bad man. She said we were safer with him far away from us. When she talked about him, she would start to cry, and that was enough of a convincer for me that he must be a very bad person, because he had broken her heart."
Both Dean and I got a little twinge in our chests when we heard that story; obviously, Paul was still hurting badly, never having known his father and growing up without much of his parents' love to go on. At least we had had our father.
"I was almost five when my mom died too," Dean remarked.
Everyone was quiet for several long moments, brooding, thinking about our mothers and how they weren't there anymore.
Castiel was the one to break the silence. "Sam, may I speak with you in the other room?"
Everyone watched us go, wondering what Cas wanted to tell me. I wouldn't see any of them again for several months. Several months for me, anyway.
"What is it, Cas?"
"Sam, I'm certain now. Paul Callan is the man I've been looking for. He's crucial to the survival of the human race." The angel raised his hand. "I must send you back to 1978."
Angels have the power to send people backwards and forwards in time. They do this by touching you on the space between your eyes. When I saw Castiel bringing those first two fingers toward my forehead, I grabbed them and pushed them away. "Cas, what? Send me back to 1978?"
"Yes. Didn't you hear Paul? His mother died in 1978." He brought the fingers up again.
Once more, I batted them down. "Cas, explain this to me before you just zap me back in time more than thirty years, okay?"
"Alright," Castiel replied, sounding a bit put out. "There was an incident in 1978 that put Paul's life in danger, and if I send you back, you, and only you, can ensure that he's around to grow into the man you see before you now."
"Why just me? Dean can't come too?"
"No, his presence there would upset the balance. Just know that it has to be you, and that Paul's mother needs your help."
I sighed. "First Paul needs my help, now his mother? Cas, what else happens in 1978 besides Paul's mom passing away?"
"Sam... this man will never be ready to help save the world if his mother dies. Her loss affected him so profoundly that Paul does not currently have the will to act as the vessel we need him to be. His acceptance of the highest order will only cause his body to explode on contact."
"The highest order?" I asked.
Castiel waved the question away as irrelevant. "You must go back and save Paul's mother, for his sake. For the sake of us all."
"How am I supposed to save Paul's mom? She died of cancer."
Shaking his head, the angel explained, "Theresa Callan did not die of cancer."
That was the first time I heard her name.
Castiel continued, "She died from a spell, cast on her by demons to make it look like she had a brain tumor. The spell was slow-acting, and ate up her life force. But she can be saved from this spell."
"How?"
"There's a holy rosary, kept by a priest known to Theresa. Father Calero. We don't know where he's keeping it. If you can get that rosary, and convince her to wear it, the spell can be broken within a few weeks."
That seemed easy enough. Or, at least doable. "That's all I have to do?"
"Yes."
"And Paul Callan will get to grow up with his mother?"
"Yes, Sam, he will."
I wanted that very much for Paul. Not even I knew how much I would want it for him before this was all over. "Okay," I began, "I'll go back and find this rosary, and save Paul's mom."
Castiel seemed very relieved. "Thank you, Sam."
"I still don't understand why Dean can't come along, but I guess you know what you're doing." I took a deep breath and held it, bending my knees. When Cas didn't do anything, I said, "Well come on, let's go."
"Actually, I should give you some instructions first. I have forgotten to explain to you the circumstances under which Theresa Callan is living when you will encounter her." He looked at me very seriously. "She knows the demons are around her. She knows they want her son. And she thinks they may be the ones who have made her ill. But, she can't talk about these things with anyone. Theresa sent Paul away to live with a powerful congregation of nuns for his own safety."
"I thought Paul grew up in an orphanage?" I questioned.
"He did. Upon Theresa's death, Paul was able to return to Boston. The demons could see that her death had broken the little boy's soul, so they no longer had any need of him. As things are now, the nuns have prayer circles going 'round the clock to keep Paul's location secret, but even the mere mention of the child's name in Theresa's presence would upset the balance of the protective energy surrounding her. They want to claim Paul now, in case their death spell somehow doesn't work on his mother.
"Do you understand me, Sam? You must not ask where Paul is. You must not even say his name. It will only bring the demons straight to her. They are watching, waiting for that barrier to be weakened. If they think Theresa knows where Paul is, they will torture her until she's dead to get that information out of her. As far as you're concerned, Theresa doesn't even have a child. Do you understand how serious I am about this?"
My mind was reeling from the responsibility Castiel was placing on my shoulders. He was right; I just had to put it out of my mind that Theresa Callan even had a child, because otherwise, I would be tempted to ask her questions about her son, and to try to get her to talk about him. "Yes, Castiel, I understand," I said.
"Once Theresa's life has been saved, we can find a safe place for her to go with Paul, where the demons can't find them. If you successfully complete the task set before you, he can return to his mother's arms, safe and warm."
That sounded perfect to me. "You'll tell Dean where I went?"
"That won't be necessary. When I return you to 2010, you'll arrive at the exact second you left," explained Castiel. "Dean won't even know you were gone."
"Okay. Let's go then."
Before we left, the angel waved his hand before my eyes and said some words in Enochian. It was something he'd never done before. "Why'd you do that?" I asked.
"Protection," he said.
A split second after Castiel touched me between the eyes, I found myself standing on a street corner at mid-day, looking up at a billboard on the side of a building. It was an advertisement for an upcoming movie.
Coming December 1978, National Lampoon's Animal House, it said. I thought of how disappointed Dean would be that he couldn't have come along with me. Animal House was one of his favorite films.
"We should go to the hotel where Theresa works," Cas instructed.
"So I can meet her?" I asked. If I was going to get her to wear this rosary, it followed that I'd have to gain her trust.
"Yes, and..." Castiel swayed on his feet. "...so I can lie down for a while."
Sometimes, Dean and I both forget how it could weaken Cas to do these trips through time. "Oh, certainly," I said, and put an arm around his shoulders to keep him upright.
"Don't worry, Sam. This shouldn't be at all complicated as long as you do as I have instructed," was the last thing he said to me before we got to the hotel.
It's as I said. Angels lie.
Sometimes, when I think of what Castiel did to us, I want to kill him. But most days, I thank him.