A/N: Inspired by the lovely artwork of nella-fantasiaa on Deviantart. A re-imagining of the 1997 film with a sprinkling of SPN cast members. Since it's an AU, some details may be slightly different. I hope you enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural/Titanic (1997) universe. I do not claim any ownership over either. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Castiel Novak hummed to himself as he worked the clay on his wheel, creating a bowl. He'd learned long ago that clay was his favorite medium. It was malleable and could be shaped to whatever vision his imagination provided but its very nature dictated certain conditions to produce optimum results. The balance of order and chaos calmed Castiel. The hobby also served to keep his hands limber. At his advanced age, keeping his joints functioning was nearly a full-time profession.

In the kitchen just outside the sun-room, Castiel's grandson, Adam Milligan, moved around making lunch. Castiel paused his work and regarded the boy fondly. Adam was a good companion and he doted on his grandfather – too much for Castiel's liking sometimes. As much as Castiel adored his grandson, he sometimes wished he'd find his own life. Adam would hear none of it, of course. Castiel smiled and went back to shaping his bowl. The sounds of the TV drifted over the sound of his potter's wheel.

[... hello Tracy . Of course everyone knows the familiar stories of Titanic – the nobility, the band playing as the ship went down and all that. But what I'm really interested in are the untold stories ... the secrets locked deep in the hull of Titanic.]

Castiel lifted his head. The name of the ship had caught his attention ... he strained to hear more of the interview. Taking hold of his cane, Castiel pushed to his feet. Sparing a moment to stabilize himself, Castiel shuffled carefully forward into the kitchen. At 104, Castiel was not inclined to rush whenever he moved. Adam noticed his grandfather's sudden interest in the TV and moved around the island to make sure the old man did not fall. One broken hip was enough in a lifetime.

Piercing blue eyes seated in a face softened and creased by age stared at the flat screen mounted on the far wall. It was large enough to let Castiel see from the sun-room, but his hearing was not what it had once been.

"Adam, turn that up, please," Castiel requested.

Adam obediently raised the volume and Castiel squinted in concentration as he listened.

[...nobody called the recovery of artifacts of King Tut's tomb 'grave robbing'. Regardless, we are taking all precautions to preserve and catalog the artifacts that we do recover. I have museum-trained experts on board for just that purpose. Take a look at this drawing that we found just today – a piece of paper that's been underwater for 84 years. My team were able to preserve it intact. Should this have remained unseen at the bottom of the ocean for eternity?]

Castiel blinked as the camera focused on the drawing. It was a charcoal piece depicting a young man with dark, ruffled hair reclining on what looked to be an ornate couch. The man was nude with well-defined musculature on his slender body. The expression he wore as he looked at the artist was one of intense concentration. One hand rested near his face, the other lay flat across his chest. A ring resided on that hand – a ring with a large, unique octagon step cut stone. The ring itself was large as well since the man wore it on his middle finger. The skill of the artist had managed to bring out the facets of the stone. Castiel shook his head slightly in disbelief.

"Well ... fuck me."

Adam snorted in laughter at hearing his normally staid grandfather curse. The smile faded when Castiel turned to him and said, "Adam, get that man on the phone."

An hour or so later, Adam had somehow managed to get Castiel patched through via satellite phone to the vessel Keldysh. He listened on speakerphone as his grandfather insisted on talking directly to the expedition leader, Brock Lovett. Adam concealed a smirk as he heard Castiel's implacable will finally wearing down the folks on the research vessel. Adam had no doubt his grandfather could pull souls from Hell itself if he took a mind to it.

"Yes, I can hear you, Mr. Lovett. I was curious if you had located the Light of the Ocean." Castiel asked calmly.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Ok, you have my attention, sir ... can you tell us who the man in the picture is?"

Castiel smiled, a mischievous light in his eyes. "Oh, yes. The man in the picture is me."