Title: Infinite White

Characters: Victor Henrikson, OC
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters I just have fun with them.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Victor's choices suck. Now he has to choose the one that sucks least.
Warnings: Language, talk of torture

AN: Written for the spnland community challenge prompt: "Write a ficlet involving a physical transformation of some kind. Werewolves, vamps, deaging, genderswap—anything goes, so be creative!"

There was white light all around but this wasn't his own personal remake of Ghost and he wasn't dead. He knew this the same way he knew he wasn't completely alive either. He could remember a little; the girl coming in, asking about Dean and Sam; the way her eyes had rolled white. And the pain. Lots of pain.

Which was, for some strange reason, feeling kind of far away now. Huh.

"Victor." The voice was melodious yet harsh. Neither male nor female yet tinged with both. He had the strange sensation that he wasn't just hearing the voice with his ears but with his mind and his bones and his blood. It sang in him and it hurt in a different way. "Victor Henrikson."

"Who are you?" It didn't sound like the kid with the white eyes but caution was always to be encouraged.

"My name is Raguel. I'm an angel of the Lord."

Victor snorted, yeah right. "No really; who are you."

There was a pause and Victor could sense puzzlement coming from...it.

"I am Raguel an archangel," the voice repeated so Victor decided to roll with it. After all, demons were real.

"What has that got to do with me?"

"Because I need to ask you a very important question."

"If you're going to ask if I believe in you, the answer's 'yes'," he snorted again, "Demons, vampires, werewolves—why not angels too?"

"That is not my question." Now the voice felt impatient—or maybe just mildly irritated—it was hard to tell. "Victor, I am tasked by God to watch over the other angels, make sure they work harmoniously together; discipline them when they behave improperly."

"Sounds like important work." He may have been a little sarcastic but he had no clue what that had to do with him considering what was happening to him back in the world.

"It is," the voice—Raguel—agreed and if he had caught Victor's sarcasm there was not a hint of it in his voice. "Dean cannot escape the deal he made which means it is likely the First Seal will fall. If that happens, the Heavenly forces must be ready."

Dean's deal? "Ready for what."

"Lilith's forces will invade the earth and will try to break the other 65 seals. The angels must stop them or Lucifer will rise and it will be the end of every human being on earth."

Victor lifted a hand he couldn't see. "Wait, wait. Hold on a minute." With the hand he couldn't see he rubbed eyes he could barely feel. "Are you telling me Lucifer, the devil, is real?"

"Yes." No hesitation, no explanation, just flat belief.

"Satan." He asked for confirmation not sure he wanted it.

"Yes."

"And he's going to rise...to earth. Like in an apocalypse."

"Exactly like the Apocalypse. It will be the End of Days."

"Oh maa-an," he said in disbelief. Not about the angels, not after having fought off an army of demons, but Dean and Sam hadn't mentioned anything about the fucking Apocalypse. This was turning into a real shitfest of a day. "What do you need from me? I can't take on Lucifer."

"Not as you are, no, but you are one of a few very special people, Victor. The upcoming battle will be fought on earth so I require an earthly body to fight in. You can be my Vessel. If you allow me to use your body—"

"Woah, woah, wait a minute." Victor wanted to stare at Raguel and he would've if it weren't for the whole 'blinded by the light' thing. "You want to use my body."

"Yes." Again with the flat statement.

"And where would I be?" There was silence from the angel...sorry, archangel. "What happens to me?"

"It is possible that you would remain inside your body when I fill it. It is also possible that you will survive intact when I withdraw but it is more likely that, if you are still inside your body and if we survive the war, you would be a shell barely able to think or function as merely mortal again."

"Oh that sounds...enticing." His father had gone out that way, drooling and babbling and incontinent, and Victor didn't want to live through it himself.

It wasn't a sigh that Victor felt emanate from the angel just endless patience and understanding. "If you don't consent to being my vessel, you will die. Lilith is killing you right now. Your body is enduring tortures unimaginable."

Victor frowned, examining himself. "I don't feel anything."

"I am shielding your mind from it," Raguel explained. "It is easier to converse if you are not writhing in agony."

"Thanks for that." Again with the sarcasm except this time there was an honest truth behind it. "So I say no, and I definitely die. I say yes, and I'll only most likely die."

"If you say yes, you will help me to save many millions of lives—maybe even the whole planet. Is that not your job, Agent Henrikson; to serve and to protect?"

This time Victor gave a soft cynical laugh—or at least he thought he did. He couldn't be sure in this weird blanketing whiteness. "I don't care if you are an angel; don't try and play me."

"It is not a game; it is a fact. You were a member of a law enforcement group. That means that you believe in preserving the peace, protecting the innocent. This is also my role."

"A match made in Heaven," Victor said. He was sure the angel would pick up the sarcasm that time.

"Indeed," was Raguel's placid response.

Sarcasm, Victor was forced to admit, was not the angel's strong point. He sighed, or thought he did, "Okay so if I say yes, it's just you and me against the devil and all the forces of Hell?"

"Of course not," he replied. "There are many valiant ones who work with me to maintain order. You will work closely with Uriel who is harsh, but effective, and Michael commands us all, of course. I am confident of victory."

"All I got to do is say yes," Victor confirmed.

"That is correct."

It sounded like a deal too good to be true in some ways. Escape death, become an angel and save the world. But Victor could also feel, just outside Raguel's presence, the death that was waiting for him at Lilith's hands. Even if hosting an archangel killed him, his soul or whatever, off for good, it would still be an easier death than she was offering.

In the end it came down to what the fuck did he have to lose?

"I say yes," Victor stated with certainty. "I give my consent."

Raguel didn't say thanks or nothing, he just...swelled into this big energy source that filled Victor, filled him and emptied him, joined with him and isolated him, healed him and killed him and it felt far, far worse than being possessed by a demon but also far, far more euphoric than any drug Victor had ever had—and that included some top quality morphine when he'd been recovering from a gunshot wound.

He was Victor but Victor was not him.

Oh yeah, they thought, they could get used to this.