An Angle of the Lord
AN: Soo I haven't updated my other story, Stuck In A Story You Can't Get Out Of, and I am sorry for this, but I am really lazy and I've been preoccupied with a thing. Will update that one within the next week though!
Anywhore, I've read so many fanfics where 'angel' is misspelt as 'angle' and well…..it was too good to resist. Don't take this one shot seriously at all please it's just something I feel like doing. This is not aimed at anyone in particular, so please do not be offended if you are someone who has misspelt it as 'angle'. It's just an amusing slip up that I have decided to cultivate.
Also, I suck at maths because I dropped it when I was 16 which was almost three years ago so ignore my terrible maths skills. And this is unbeta'd just because.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor do I own the Pythagorean Theorem
Without further ado, I give you: AN ANGLE OF THE LORD
"So class, if we use the Pythagorean Theorem, what is the length of the edge of the trellis roof in problem 31?
Anyone?
Come on, guys!
I'm going to pick someone at random if someone doesn't answer me soon…
That's it. Dean, what's the answer?"
Dean Winchester, 17 year old student at Sioux Falls High School, jerked out of his doze.
Ah, shit.
"Uhh…..Monday?" He hazarded a guess. At Mr Milton's sigh and the giggles of his classmates, he winked at Lisa Braedon, head cheerleader and the best looking girl in school.
"Mr Winchester, the least you could do is pay SOME attention to what I am saying, even if you don't understand it" Mr Milton said in his nasal tones.
Dean grunted and copied down the formula that was on the whiteboard. It was bad enough that he had to be at school, but learning Trigonometry? Fuck that, man. He could've dropped out and be working full time at Bobby's Auto Repair shop, but Uncle Bobby had insisted that he graduate high school, and only then would he upgrade Dean's part time job to full time.
Trigonometry still fucking sucked though.
As Mr Milton waxed lyrical about the Unit Circle Formula, Dean began to doodle.
There was a noise at the edge of his hearing.
"Dean"
What the fuck? Who said that?
He looked around. No one was paying any attention to him, not even Lisa, with whom he'd been trying to score for WEEKS.
"Dean Winchester"
The bell went. Dean, taking that as his cue to get the hell out of Dodge, threw his stuff into his bag and ran out the door, still clutching his barely used Trig book.
"Dean, please slow down, I feel slightly nauseous"
It was coming from his fucking TRIG BOOK?!
Dean raced into the bathroom, heart pounding, and dashed into the nearest cubicle.
He sat and opened the hated book. There, on the page, in his own scratchy scrawls, was the diagram he'd been forced to copy down the other day. That Pythagoras Theory he'd had to learn frikkin' YEARS ago, and it was fucking GLOWING.
WHAT THE LITERAL FUCK?
"Dean," murmured the voice. "You know you are not meant to be in a Maths class. I am Castiel, an angle of the Lord, and it is my job to grip you tight and raise you from Pythagoras"
Dean knew he must be going insane. A drawing in a book was talking to him. A drawing in a book was glowing, talking to him, and saying to him that it was going to save him from Trigonometry.
He knew that extra shot of coffee was a mistake.
"I can read your thoughts, Dean, and I can assure you that you are not imagining things. If you leave the bathroom now, you will see the evidence that I am, in fact, real."
Dean shook his head slowly and unlocked the cubicle. Cautiously, he approached the door, and risked a peek into the school hallway.
It was utter chaos. Maths textbooks, covering all aspects of the subject, were flying through the air, scattering themselves across the ground, and spontaneously combusting. Students shrieked – in both terror and delight – as their stationery became sentient, and soon an all-out Paper War was in full swing.
"Dean, leave via the bathroom window, and drive to the nearest deserted spot."
And Dean did exactly that.
A ten minute time lapse found Dean reaching the end of a gravel driveway, which lead to a deserted barn.
"Enter the barn, Dean."
I must be going outta my goddamn mind, Dean thought to himself as he entered the barn. First hearing voices in my head, now following their orders? Goodbye sanity.
"I heard that, Dean Winchester"
"Stop fucking calling me by my full name!" Dean finally snapped and spoke aloud, glaring at the interior of the barn as if daring it to talk back.
"FINE, Dean. But you must scribe these symbols upon the walls of this barn. Only then will I be able to manifest on your plane and properly rescue you from your torment"
"Yeah, yeah,, whatever," Dean muttered as he started drawing the symbols, which had been transplanted into his head by the angle, on the wall.
Wait, a fucking triangle? A circle? A square? The fuck? Why the fuck am I drawing a quadratic formula, Cas? Dean thought.
"They are the current physical representation of my power. However, the one I am currently occupying – this Pythagorean Theorem, is fading fast, and will not last long. I need these symbols to focus my power so I may manifest in an appropriate form for the purpose of saving you."
….right.
The symbols were all drawn, and now Dean was being freaking forced to chant mathematical formulae. This was like the world's worst Maths lesson, and he didn't even have his nerdy little brother, Sammy, to ask for help from.
There was a sudden burst of light, and Dean's book burst into flames. He dropped it, cursing.
When he looked up, he was stunned into speechlessness.
A boy stood in front of him.
"Hello, Dean," the boy said, staring at him.
Dean was unable to respond. His eyes drank in the sight before him. A tan trench coat covered a modest, ill-fitting suit. Dark, rich brown hair adorned the head of the boy, scruffy and perfect, as if he had just fallen out of bed. Or had amazing sex, Dean mused. No, not gay, remember? Straight. As a plank. That has severe rain damage and flexibility. SHUT UP, BRAIN!
The best part (or worst part, if you were Dean's 'I AM STRAIGHT' thoughts), however, was the boy's eyes. They were a deep, sparkling, ocean blue, and Dean could feel himself drowning in them as he idly noticed that the tie the boy was wearing was the exact same colour as his eyes. They stood out against his pale skin tone, framed by his sex hair.
"Dean?" The boy asked, and Dean realised he has spent a good two minutes staring.
Oops.
"Yeah, uh…..Cas?" He asked, hardly daring to believe it.
"Yes, Dean, I am Castiel, Angle of the Lord. You put so much effort into hating the entire structure of Maths that I was able to become a physical being. Thank you. I shall now return the favour, and you will no longer be obliged to attend high school."
"Wait, you can do that?!"
"Yes, Dean. You have, after all, managed to achieve the grades required to graduate, and your uncle will no longer see it as necessary to send you to the school."
Dean was, once again, rendered speechless by the being in front of him.
"So, um….what happens now? I mean, what do you do? Where will you go?" He managed to get out between his numb lips.
Cas looked rather sheepish.
"Well, I was in fact wondering if you would allow me to stay with you. For as long as you are willing. You willed me into being, Dean. You are, so far, my sole purpose in existing. And I can still hear your thoughts," he added with an amused smirk. "Why do you feel you must deny your attraction to men? To me? I do find you attractive, Dean Winchester, on all planes of reality, in your mind, soul, and body -"
Cas' words were cut off by the press of a hot mouth to his.
"Say my full name again, Cas."
"Dean Winchester," Cas intoned in his gravelly voice.
Dean groaned and kissed him again, abandoning any thoughts he had entertained about insisting upon being straight.
"So, would you stay, like, forever?" He asked when they parted again, panting.
"I believe I could find myself doing that, yes, Dean Winchester."
"And no more Maths?"
"No more Maths."
"That's good enough for me!" Dean said happily, and kissed Castiel again. As Castiel wound his newly created arms around Dean Winchester's neck, drawing him in closer, he thought to himself that maybe humanity wasn't so bad, after all.
THE END
AN: So that's out my system. Let me know what you think! It's pretty terrible, I know, but I felt like writing something stupid and daft, so I did.