TITLE: Beach
AUTHOR: Catherine
DISCLAIMER: Don't own the characters involved, not making any profit from this.
DISTRIBUTION: Please get my permission before posting anywhere.
RATING: PG
CONTENT: Some disturbing themes
SPOILERS: Nothing really.
SUMMARY: Sam needs to talk to Castiel.
Beach
By: Catherine
Dean was out cold before his head hit the pillow. Sam pulled the blanket up around his shoulders, like Dean had done for him so many times in the past; but he had to move fast because he knew this might be his only chance to say what he had to say. He looked over his shoulder. "Castiel?" Somehow it didn't feel right using Dean's nickname for the angel. They weren't exactly close enough for that.
"Yes?" The angel paused in his step, but he didn't turn to face the younger Winchester.
Sam swallowed hard. He'd been going over this in his head time and again, but now that he had to vocalize it, he found it hard to do so. "Can we talk?"
"Regarding what?"
"Not here," Sam looked over at Dean, then made his way to Castiel's side. "Not here," he repeated. "Isn't there somewhere-?"
Before he could finish, there was a bright flash. Startled, Sam stumbled a step, only to frown at the light crunching sound beneath his feet. Was that sand? Sam looked around and realized that it was. And not only sand, but ocean and sky. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been to the beach. It was dark out and the black waves seemed to go on forever. He started to walk, then opened his mouth to speak, only to realize that the angel wasn't beside him. Had Cas seriously ditched him? Finally, he spotted Castiel standing where they had started, about fifteen feet back. Sam almost laughed and beckoned him over. The next time he blinked, the angel was by his side. Sam started walking again. This time, Castiel followed.
It was Castiel who spoke first. "What did you wish to discuss?"
"Destiny." Sam spoke the word like an insult. "If God does have a plan for us, then certain things have to happen, don't they? Some things can't be stopped; like Dean breaking the first seal." He took a deep breath. "Or me breaking the last one."
Castiel nodded, because there was not much he could add. It was ... difficult to explain these matters to mortal men. Their language was so inadequate sometimes. "Certain burdens must be borne; you and your brother have endured far more than any should be required. But it was necessary." Castiel knew that his Father would not have forced such hardships upon these two men without just cause. He had to believe that. He had to have faith.
"I know," Sam said softly; he stopped and picked up a stone, sending it skipping across the water. "There are some things that can't be avoided. No matter what we did, no matter how hard we fought to change things, some of this stuff was going to happen. Like Dean going to hell and Lucifer being set free. We had no choice."
Humanity thought itself so powerful; men assumed that they forged their own destinies, that they could defy God's will whenever they chose. Castiel could hear the resignation in Sam's voice.
"I'm going to say yes, aren't I?" Sam took a deep breath, "to Lucifer."
Castiel's eyes narrowed. "You can fight."
"Not this," Sam cut him off. "It's another one of those... milestones, one of those things that's going to happen. I feel like I'm about to drive off a cliff and no matter which way I turn or how hard I hit the brakes, I'm still going to go over the edge." He sighed shakily. "I can feel it inside of me. I will say yes to him."
The purpose behind this discussion suddenly became clear. "You want me to kill you."
Sam nodded.
Here was an opportunity to carry out the Lord's work. To kill the devil's chosen vessel would be to strike a powerful blow against Lucifer. But Sam Winchester was right; some things could not be avoided. "Sam-"
"The second we have the Colt," Same looked out at the water. "As soon as we have it in our hands, I'm going to say yes. And I when I do, I want you to take the shot."
"You would be destroyed." Castiel needed to explain the magnitude of this sacrifice. "Completely."
"So would Lucifer," Sam replied, taking a deep breath. "So would Lucifer."
"Yes." It was all he could say. People had ascended into sainthood for less. This man was willing to give up not only his life, but his very soul in order to save humanity. Castiel could sense his commitment, he knew that Sam Winchester understood the sacrifice he was willing to make. And at this moment, Castiel could understand what his Father saw in humanity, what Lucifer would never see.
Castiel took a breath and then spoke slowly. "If Dean consents to become Michael's vessel, the consequences for him would be dire, physically as well as mentally." He continued quickly, before Sam could interrupt. "If we carry out your plan, the repercussions for your brother would be far worse."
Sam raked a hand through his hair in frustration. "Cas, I'm doing this FOR Dean. I can't ask him to do it, because I know he wouldn't be able to take the shot. I'm asking you, so that he won't have to. Dean wouldn't be able to kill me, anymore than I'd be able to kill him. That's why I'm asking you. You know as well as I do that my plan will work, that it's the best plan we've got. Dean would never agree to it," Sam paused. "I know about destiny, but it was still me who started it. Lucifer wouldn't be free if it wasn't for my actions. I can do this Cas, I want to do this, but I need your help. Promise me, please."
Castiel was quiet for a long time. Sam couldn't understand his hesitancy. This plan would work and they both knew it, but Sam wasn't about to make this call without a definite answer. "Cas-"
"I will consider your proposal."
Sam started to tell him that that wasn't good enough, but the next thing he knew, he was back in his bed and it was morning. He grunted and sat up, raking a hand through his hair.
"Morning, Sleeping Ugly," Dean smirked at his own joke. He was sitting t the loan coffee table their motel room provided, reading the newspaper, drinking coffee and partaking in some sweet, delicious Danish action.
"Hey." Sam was beginning to wonder if he'd dreamt the whole thing, but he could have sworn he could still smell the seawater.
Dean finished the article he was reading, a fascinating piece about the local college cheerleaders' charity car wash. When he set the paper down, he was surprised to see Sam still sitting in bed, his feet on the ground, but making no move to get up. "You okay, Sammy?"
"Don't call me Sammy."
Dean hid his smile behind the rim of his coffee cup; he couldn't remember the last time he'd heard those words. Still, he had to ask. "What's on your mind?"
"The beach."
"Huh." That wasn't quite the answer Dean had been expecting. He popped the last bit of Danish into his mouth, washed it down with some coffee and then nodded. "Okay."
"Okay?" Sam echoed, making his way over to the table and starting on his breakfast. "Okay what?"
"Let's go to the beach." Dean started to pack up his stuff.
"What?" Sam almost choked on his coffee.
"Let's hit the beach," Dean nodded; the more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded to him. "It's a great day, there's a beach a few miles from here," he grinned. "And it's still bikini season." He could see that Sam was about to protest, so Dean held up a hand to keep him quiet. "Plus, with the whole Apocalypse thing going on, this might be the last chance we get to have a day off. Am I right or am I right? You don't even have to answer, because I know I am. So finish eating, pack your stuff and let's go."
Within ten minutes, Sam had done just that. He slung his bag over his shoulder, then started to follow his brother out the door.
"There's just one quick stop we have to make before we hit the beach."
"What's that?"
"Car wash." Dean grinned.
THE END.