A/N: So I saw the movie Troll Hunter and then this happened.
Possible misuse of Norwegian folklaw, with much of it lifted from Troll Hunter (and a little bit from American Gods). If you see anything hugely and utterly wrong, please do not hesitate to let me know.
Unbetta'd. In response to any mistakes, please contact Apple and ask why their spell check doesn't catch everything.
There is a bear that has made its home in the woods, or so the reports say. Sam and Dean have no reason to doubt there's something - not since the beam of their flashlights caught the sheep's head - and they have been following a path marked by the occasional spots of blood and wool since. There is no continuous line of blood. Rather, it appears in patches, as if the bear is stopping every hundred or so meters to eat a little before moving on. Not typical bear behaviour. Every time they find a new patch, the brothers split up to find the next, one sending the other a text when they have done so, and then meeting up at it again using the GPS tracking system on their phones. Slowly but surely, Sam and Dean have made their way deep into the trees.
Hunting at night is not ideal. In fact, it's inadvisable, but they haven't managed to catch sight of the creature during the day time, only the evidence that it exists that it leaves behind, and this is a last ditch effort to find the animal where it sleeps. Winchesters don't give up, and Sam and Dean will do whatever it takes to do what they do best. And what they do best is help farmers with any problem they have that threaten their livestock. Bears are their speciality.
The night is practically pitch black, the inky darkness cut only by the small lights both brothers hold in their hands. The day had been overcast, and the cloud cover has remained, blocking out the slight relief any moonlight would have bought. Sam and Dean stand over the latest patch of sheep remains, debating which direction to move in next, when thunder rolls in from behind. Suddenly there is a loud crack, and a sheet of lightning flashes across the sky. For a few seconds the woods are light up, and the brothers can see clearly around themselves. Up ahead, the thick tree cover ends abruptly, but what it gives way to is not a clearing. Instead, Sam and Dean see trunks lying flat along the ground, their roots reaching towards the sky higher then their branches. Thirty or so trees uprooted, with no conceivable reason why they have been.
The lightning is gone, almost as quickly as it came.
The thunder rumbles further away.
Fade to black.
-00000-
Silence does not return to the woods.
The sound is different. It doesn't roll in like thunder; it's not there and suddenly it is. Sam and Dean stand statue still as the rumbling turns into a roar, followed by two loud crashes and a steady thumping, as if something is walking towards them. But there is nothing in this forest that is big enough to create footsteps that loud.
The brother's peer off into the distance, eyes straining in the direction of the unexplainable clearing where the not-footsteps are getting louder. Another roar, and it's a sound unlike anything Sam and Dean have heard before outside of movies. They turn to look at each other.
And then they're not alone in the woods. There is another man, and he appears beside Dean as if out of thin air. His dark hair is tousled, and his skin where the flashlight beam hits it seems otherworldly golden, and he is impossibly beautiful. And he speaks, and his voice is like the rumbling of a storm.
"Run."
-00000-
Sam and Dean run, and the man runs with them. The crashing and snarling does not fade, but continues at the same volume, as if no matter how far or fast they run, they are not getting any further away from the clearing that shouldn't be there and whatever is now within it. There is barely any light to see by, the darkness ahead only broken occasionally by the erratically moving beams of light Sam and Dean hold in their hands. Their rifles, strapped across the chest and over the shoulder, smack painfully into their backs. The other man does not have a light, but he seems to be moving more surely through the woods than the brothers.
And so the three of them run largely blind through the trees, away from that sound that feels like it's chasing them, and it doesn't seem like they're going anywhere,
But they are moving, because there is the end of the woods, and just beyond that, the Impala.
Dean reaches his car first, and he throws himself in the driver's seat. He's breathing hard, and he can't hear anything beyond the roars and the pounding of his own blood in his ears. He's not even sure why he had listened to the man who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere - all he knows is that that voice had said run and those eyes had been so wide and his body had just reacted. But Sam is jumping into the passenger seat and Dean reaches for the key.
Sam's hand darts out and catches his wrist. "We can't leave him behind."
"Sammy, he's probably got his own car."
"He doesn't. There's nothing else here, Dean. We can't just leave him."
Dean makes an almost strangled sound and pushes himself out of the car again. The roaring is definitely louder. It crashes into his eardrums and fills his head with the sound; it sinks in through his skin until his entire body is thrumming with it, and the impossibly beautiful man turns and he looks at Dean and though he doesn't raise his voice, Dean can still hear him clear as day.
"Get in the car and go."
"We're not going to let you go walking off alone after whatever it is in the woods." Sam is always the one that can be counted on to keep his wits about him, and Dean nods along to his shout.
"I'll be fine" the man says "I know my way back."
Dean crosses his arms over his chest. His body is actually shaking now, as if the vibrations of the sounds coming from the woods - and definitely coming closer - could actually move him, but he would never forgive himself for abandoning another person.
"If you stay, we stay." Dean says, and he's pleased that his voice holds steady while everything else is fighting against the very strong impulse to just get back in the car.
The man looks at the pair of them for a moment, and then there is a crash, and a tree falls down close enough to them that the very top of it pokes out of the edge of the woods. The next moment the man is sliding in to the back seat of the Impala.
Sam and Dean both throw themselves in after, and Dean turns on the ignition and they speed off towards the town. Neither of the brothers look back.
-00000-
So there's a man in the back of the Impala and his eyes are as blue as the cloudless sky. They dart about the cabin as if looking for exists, and if Dean didn't know that his baby was perfect, he would swear that the other man didn't like her. Sam stares resolutely straight ahead, in a way that can only mean he's fighting every urge in his overlarge frame to turn around and ask the stranger a million questions about what was going on.
The silence is almost unbearably awkward, and the words force themselves out of Dean's mouth unbidden.
"So what's your name then, man?"
The man looks up and catches Dean's eyes in the rearview mirror. Dean knows he should be watching the road, but he feels himself being caught in that gaze, that blue staring into the depths of his green, as if eyes really are the windows to the soul, and the stranger is looking straight at Dean's and passing judgement. He can feel the Impala drifting slightly to the left, and Sam looks across startled, but Dean can't wrench his focus away from the rearview mirror, as the dark haired man seems to scrape him raw.
All at once the man blinks, and the feeling his gone. Dean focuses on the road again and hastily corrects their course before the stranger speaks.
"Castiel. My name is Castiel."
"What was that?" Explodes out of Sam, and Dean looks up to see if Castiel is seemingly communing with Sammy's essence like he did with his own, but instead sees him staring out the window, and giving no particular sign that he heard what Sam said.
Dean is considering prompting him before Castiel speaks again.
"It was nothing you need to know about and nothing I am going to tell you."
The sentence lingers in the air, effectively killing conversation as they drive the last couple of miles to the town and pull into the motel. Dean and Sam get out of the car and walk towards their room. They look behind them to see Castiel standing slightly away from the Impala, arms hanging at his sides and looking up at the unmarked sky. Dean opens his mouth to say something, but again Castiel speaks before he gets a word out.
"Thank you for letting me ride in your car. I will just find somewhere to stay now."
"No way." Dean says, and Sam gives him a startled look. Dean is a little surprised himself, if he's honest, but something is telling him not to just let Castiel go. "You're not wandering off on your own, buddy. Not while there's something out there that you won't tell us about but don't seem that desperate to avoid. I'm not going to be reading about you tomorrow in the papers."
Castiel is staring at him, and Dean stops talking. There's something in those eyes, something beyond the blue, and Dean finds himself wanting to take a step forward to get a good look, get up in Castiel's space and search for whatever it is in his gaze that makes Dean feel like he's falling, like all of his secrets are laid bare for Castiel to read and the other man is the only one who can catch him if he deems him worthy before he hits the ground. He fights the temptation, folding his arms across his chest.
Castiel blinks.
"Very well." He says, and sweeps past Sam and Dean and into their room.
Sam gives Dean an incredulous look, clearly asking if Dean has lost it. Dean only shrugs in return, and the brothers walk into the small, two person room.
Castiel has already taken up one of the armchairs, and while personally Dean doesn't think they'd be comfortable to sleep in, he only shrugs again, and he and Sam get ready to sleep.
Dean lays down on the bed. He looks over at Sam, watches him for a few seconds to make sure he's still breathing. He looks at Castiel, who's sitting in the armchair with his eyes closed, but with his spine far too straight for him to be asleep. Dean sighs and flicks off the light. He closes his eyes.
Fade to black.
-00000-
Castiel is gone when Dean wakes up, and he has left no trace. Dean is almost considering chalking all of last night up to a strange dream, but Sam stirs from sleep and the first motion his eyes make is towards the armchair that had previously occupied Castiel. Unless the two of them hved reached creepy levels of codependency where they share dreams, it is unlikely either of them had imagined the strange clearing or the strange noises or the even stranger blue eyed man.
They stumble out of the room twenty minutes later looking for their morning caffeine fix. There's a small diner ten minutes walk from the place where they spent the night, and Dean shovels down a huge amount of bacon while Sam sips slowly at his coffee. While he drinks, he finds his gaze drawn to the window, and looking out at the park across the street, he spots a dark haired figure sitting alone in the middle of the grassed area, his eyes closed and face turned towards the sky.
Sam looks across the table and catches Dean's eye, inclining his head towards the window. Dean glances over and sees Castiel, and he looks quickly back at Sam. Silently, they agree to keep an eye on their companion from last night.
Castiel doesn't get up and leave for the entire day. Occasionally he sways slightly, as if moving to a music that only he can here, but otherwise he sits ramrod straight, face tilted to the heavens, as children run around him unperturbed. Sam and Dean have had to move buildings throughout the day. There's only so long that a person can stay in one shop before it begins to look suspicious, and they are trying not to bring any attention to themselves to keep their presence secret from Castiel, despite the fact that it looks as if nothing could have captured his attention.
As the sun sinks over the horizon and the sky is painted with purples and dark blues, Castiel's eyes suddenly flick open, and he gets to his feet without even a hint of a stumble. Dean is just tucking in to a slice of pie while Sam checks up on recent reports of bear activity, but both heads flick towards the park as Castiel makes his move.
Castiel begins to walk towards the woods behind the park, and Sam rises quickly to follow him. He reaches the door before he realises that Dean isn't following, and turns around with it half open.
"Come on, Dean. We have to go now if we're going to keep up with him."
He steps out of the diner, small bell over the door tinkling behind him. Dean stands, throws his pie a mournful look, and follows after.
-00000-
The woods from last night are far closer as the crow flies than they were when they were driving. It's worrying, actually, how near they are to the town, even if all they were looking for was bear and not a creature that uproots trees and roars loud enough to shake the heart.
They follow Castiel at a distance that keeps him just in their sights as they walk deeper and deeper into the trees. Dean chances a look behind himself and he can no longer see the lights from the town, just the long trunks and high branches of the trees that black out the light of the stars.
He returns his gaze forward and stops abruptly. Castiel is no longer visible. He turns towards Sam, whose face echoes his confusion. One moment Castiel had been walking beneath a tree ahead to them and the next he was gone. Sam and Dean stand alone in the woods, with nothing but the light of the moon to guide them.
Turning back is not an option. They've come this far, watched a man for an entire day and then followed him into the woods, and their only choice is to move forward. Yet without Castiel to guide them, however unknowingly, Sam and Dean can do nothing more than to stumble blindly in the direction of the last place they saw the other man. And stumble they do, not bothering to hide their presence anymore.
Then they can hear a sound. First, it rumbles underneath the noise of their footsteps and the crunching of leaves and then it overpowers everything. Crashes, thumps, and that bone rattling roar from last night. Sam and Dean don't even take the time to look at each other. They sprint off in the direction of the noise.
And come face to face with a creature that defies belief. It's huge. At least twice the height of Sam and three times as wide. It has three heads, each with a large, bulbous nose, but only the middle sports tiny eyes and a mouth filled with large, flat teeth made for grinding and smashing. It's wearing a small loincloth, and in one hand it wields a tree trunk as if it were a hammer, swinging it around and slamming it hard into the ground.
Dodging the blows at the creature's feet is Castiel. He moves with a gracefulness that doesn't seem real. Spinning and stepping with the preciseness of a trained and rehearsed dancer, and yet every move he makes is completely spontaneous. Castiel ducks a particularly low sweep of the branch and Sam and Dean both gasp together. Castiel must hear them, because he looks over, and his quick glance lasts just a second too long.
The hand of the creature not holding on to the tree branch follows it around and collects Castiel square in the middle of the chest, throwing him back a good ten meters so he hits the ground hard. All at once the scene changes from Castiel outmaneuvering the giant creature, to lying on the ground, with his leg bent at an impossible angle and the great beast stomping towards him.
Dean doesn't even stop to think. He darts forward and throws a rock at the creature before Sam has time to reach out and stop him.
"Hey ugly. Yeah, that's you."
The middle head swings around and Dean finds that he isn't scared. This creature is hurting people and killing livestock, and he isn't going to let that happen. The rest of it's body follows the head around, and suddenly it is heading away from Castiel and towards Dean. He reaches down to pick up another rock to throw, but he is far too slow. One second he's facing down something that can't exist in this world, and the next he is hit, full bodied, by an arm and flying backwards into a tree.
Fade to black.
-00000-
Sam's words seem muffled, somehow. As if Dean has something stuffed in his ears.
"You're lucky. You only ended up with a small cut."
Dean blinks slowly and looks around him. He's back in the motel room, through he has no idea how he got there. The last thing he remembers is facing off against something giant and unknown while strangely calm, and then a blinding pain, and then nothing.
"What happened?"
"You're an idiot, that's what happened", Sam hisses back. He does't sound angry. Not really. He sounds scared, and Dean feels a nameless panic rising in his chest in response. "You got knocked out, and you were just lying there as that thing got closer and closer. I thought you were going to die. And then Castiel got up and picked this stone up off the ground next to him and it started glowing until I had to close my eyes. When I opened them again, that creature had turned to stone."
"What? Like actual stone?"
"Yes, Dean. Stone. Castiel pushed it over and it smashed all over the ground. And then he walked over and picked you up and carried you here. Do you know how scared I was?"
Looking at his brother, Dean feels a twinge of guilt, but something needs to be dealt with first.
"You're saying that Castiel carried me? Sammy, you saw his leg as clear as I did. There's no way he was even carrying himself"
"I'm afraid your distance may have affected your view. As you can see, my leg is perfectly fine." Just as he had in the woods, Castiel seems to appear out of nowhere, making Sam jump and Dean's head spin alarmingly. Castiel does not react to either, walking forward until he stands at Dean's bedside. "How are you feeling, Dean?"
Dean doesn't remember ever actually telling Castiel his name, but he figures that the other man must have heard Sam use it at some point. Mystery of the name aside, Dean can feel himself getting angry. "What the hell was that thing, Cas?"
Castiel doesn't react to the nickname, and Dean is sure that his question will go unanswered.
"It was a troll."
"It was a...a what? A troll?" Sam's reply. Dean feels too stunned to say anything.
"Yes. A troll. I hunt them."
-00000-
"What do you mean, you hunt them?" Dean is completely and utterly out of his depth, but hunting he knows, it's something he understands, and he can't quite grasp hunting that thing.
"Trolls are not a docile race, though they tend to remain in their own territories. However, sometimes they wander out. It is my job to eliminate any troll threat before it gets close enough to harm humans."
"And you're insisting there's trolls, then?"
"Of course there are trolls. What other explanation could there possibly be for what you saw last night?"
"Sure. Of course. And the three heads?"
"One head, actually. The other two were merely growths that formed later in life, biologically designed to look like heads to frighten rivals."
"But I thought trolls were native to Norway." Sam pipes up. He sounds just as lost as Dean feels, but he seems to be attempting to make his expression look knowledgeable, and failing dismally. "Not that I believe in them, but trolls are part of Norwegian folklaw, right?"
Castiel looks away from Dean for the first time since he entered the room. He tilts his head to the side slightly, and looks at Sam with narrowed eyes, as if he is looking at him for the first time, and not quite liking what he sees. Finally, he speaks. "You are correct, Sam. Trolls only arrived relatively recently in this country. They came across in the minds and myths of the Norwegian people, and while they have not thrived, they do well enough."
"So wait, wait," Dean buts in, and he can feel himself getting slightly hysterical "You're saying that there are trolls here that sprung out of the brains of Norwegian people and they have three heads and they eat sheep and you hunt them?"
Castiel shifts his gaze back to Dean. Either he doesn't hear Dean's tone, or he enjoys his imminent panic, because there is a gleam of what seems to be amusement in his eyes. "I told you, trolls only have one head, and for the large part, they tend to eat rocks. But yes, that is what I'm saying, more or less."
"That's crazy."
"Would you like to come on my next hunt?"
"God yes" Sam and Dean say in unison.
-00000-
The call comes through within three hours. Castiel answers his phone with a look on his face of someone who doesn't have to very often. He even nods a few times instead of speaking, but the person on the other end just keeps talking, despite the lack of verbal response. After a while, Castiel ends the call with a gruff "of course". and turns to Sam and Dean.
"Three hours west of here. We will take your car."
The ride is near silent, but not in the same way that the one after escaping the troll the first night had been. There is a thrumming energy in the vehicle, Dean can feel it. It makes the hairs on his arms stand on end and his hands tap against the steering wheel. Every now and then he'll cast a glance at Sam and the two of them will grin at each other. Castiel, in the backseat, does not seem to be catching on to the mood. For the most part he stares out the window, but sometimes Dean will look up into the rearview mirror and find Castiel watching him. Whenever this happens he feels a flush not all that different from excitement, and looks away again quickly.
The three of them pull up in front of a small forest. Tree cover is not as thick as at the last woods, but they are taller, casting long shadows that swallow the Impala. Castiel is already out of the car before Dean and Sam have undone their seatbelts, and he stares off into the trees. Dean gets out of the car and goes to stand near him. For a reason unknown to himself he wants to get closer, to bump their shoulders together or something. But Castiel looks untouchable, unknowable, and so he doesn't.
Sam coughs loudly, and Dean wrenches his gaze towards his brother. He hadn't even realised he was staring at Castiel. Or that Castiel was apparently watching him back. He can still feel his eyes boring into the back of his skull like a physical itch. He refrains from the urge to reach up and scratch it.
"Are we going to do this or not?"
Castiel shakes his head. "Not right now. We need to wait until it's dark. Sunlight turns trolls to stone, so they hole up in lairs during the day and are much more difficult to find."
"So what are we doing here?" Sam asks, and he's beginning to sound slightly frustrated. Dean wonders if he got much sleep last night while he was unconscious.
"I need to get a feel of the place" Castiel replies, and just like before he doesn't acknowledge Sam's vocal cues. Instead, he wanders away towards the forest, and runs his hands long the branches of some of the trees on the edge.
Dean looks across at Sam, and he is definitely not happy. "Come on, Cas. You and I can get some food and Sam can have his beauty sleep while we wait."
Castiel pauses in his slow walk around the perimeter. He looks up towards the sky and says something that Dean can't make out. Then he turns and walks back to the car, slipping into the back seat without saying a word. Dean shrugs and follows him in. Sam trudges after.
-00000-
They drop Sam off at the nearest motel and continue on to a small diner. Dean makes a beeline for the counter, but Castiel hesitates before stepping through the door. Dean almost doesn't notice, preoccupied as he is by the choice in burgers, but he feels a slight chill at his side, as if a breeze is finding him at last, and he turns around to see Castiel lingering near the front of the restaurant.
"Come on and order, Cas. It's on me." Dean jerks his head and Castiel comes over to stand beside him. All at once, Dean feels warmer again, and he can't stop himself from leaning into Castiel's space a little more, seeking out that feeling.
Castiel does not seem to find anything unusual with Dean's behaviour. Rather, he keeps his eyes fixed on the menu on the countertop. "No thank you, Dean. I don't require anything."
"Whatever you say, buddy, but you're at least getting a coffee." Dean scoffs, before turning his eye to the waitress behind the counter who is watching the pair of them with a curious expression on her face. "I'll get two coffees, black, and a double bacon cheeseburger, thanks." And he practically drags Castiel off to sit at one of the booths.
They sit in silence. Dean watches as Castiel's eyes flit about the diner, settling on nothing for more than a few seconds other than the window and the view outside. Eventually his gaze returns to the front, and Dean has a brief moment of worry that Castiel is going to freak out about the fact that Dean is watching him, again. He doesn't say anything, though, only stares right back, until they are interrupted by the waitress giving a a tiny cough and then setting their order on the table before scurrying off.
Dean blinks rapidly a few times before he can focus properly on the burger before him. Castiel doesn't seem much more aware than he feels, looking down at his coffee as if he has never seen the drink before. Dean decides that the silence between them needs to be broken. "So is there anything else I need to know before tonight?"
Castiel looks up from his coffee and narrows his eyes. "Trolls are notoriously stupid. As long as you keep quiet, and keep out of the way, you will be fine."
Dean starts and looks around himself, checking for the other occupants of the diner. There is a family, harried looking parents and their three children, in the far corner and the waitress is behind the counter again cleaning off the coffee machine. All out of hearing range, but when Dean speaks again, he is careful to keep his voice to a hiss.
"Do you really think we should be talking so openly about trolls."
Castiel looks at him in a way that speaks volumes about what he thinks of Dean's intelligence, and they are not favourable thoughts. "Even if someone were to overhear us, I don't think they would think that I am talking about real trolls."
Dean can't help but agree on that point, and he smiles despite himself. "Alright then. Why don't you tell me about yourself then, Cas?"
Castiel looks down at his coffee again, and Dean feels the loss of his gaze as if it were something tangible. "We have spoken only of me and what I do since we met. How did you become a hunter, Dean?"
Dean doesn't particularly want to talk about himself, but he can't help but thinking that Castiel is right. How can he expect the other man to trust him on a potentially dangerous venture if he knows nothing about him or what he can do.
Dean sighs, loudly. "My mum's family were all hunters. Game, mostly, but they would help out farmers with small predators on occasion. She met my dad while tracking some coyotes on his property, and she gave up hunting to be with him and raise Sammy and me." Here, Dean pauses, and looks up to find Castiel watching him with his head tilted slightly and eyes earnestly wide. Dean decides to continue.
"Then one day something was taking sheep off the farm and mum went out to hunt it down. Wasn't expecting it to be a bear. She...she died." Dean feels his storytelling speed up. He just wants to race to the end and get it over with. "And dad, he couldn't handle it. He just went straight for the bottle. Some days he could barely string two words together. Sam was only six months old, so he doesn't remember it, but I was four, and I had to look after him. Keep him safe from everything. We started hunting when Sammy was about ten. Part of it was because it was a connection to mum, but mostly I just wanted him out of the house."
Dean finishes his story and finds that he is breathing harder than he realised. He looks down at his burger. It is only half eaten, but he isn't feeling hungry anymore. Suddenly, he feels a hand on his shoulder, a warmth seeping into his bones, and he looks into Castiel's big, blue eyes. "I am sorry, Dean."
"Yeah, so am I."
A silence lasts for a few seconds, before Castiel removes his hand. Somehow, the warmth lingers. "If you aren't going to eat any more, perhaps you would like to come with me to get some bait."
Dean wonders where they're going to get troll bait in a town, but he follows Castiel out of the diner without asking any questions.