I guess this goes into the Destiel category cause it's a oneshot and there's a touch of it at the end. So yeah. This is a wonderful little wtnv and spn crossover. Hope you enjoy it! Sam, Dean, and Cas visit Night Vale to investigate what's really going on in the crazy desert town. Be warned, I didn't edit.
DISCLAIMER: Welcome to Night Vale is a production of Commonplace Books and Supernatural belongs to Mr. Kripke. Enjoy!
Sam, Dean. Welcome, to Night Vale
Good evening, listeners. Quite the story I've got for you tonight. It looks like our modest desert town had a few extra visitors today. And no, I don't mean Carlos – although he is still hanging around with his perfect hair and his team of scientists. A pair of brothers rolled through our town earlier, stopping folks and asking about some of the stranger happenings in Night Vale.
They called themselves the Winchesters and, let me tell you, they were an awfully odd sight in our humble desert community. Plaid shirts, heavy jackets, and thick boots. One was very tall with long flowing hair – almost as perfect as Carlos's partially shorn locks – and the other was tough looking with perfect green eyes. Honestly, listeners, I can't even begin to describe their color. A beautiful mix of spring-forest green, ash grey and honey. Such a beautiful green. So dreamy.
Of course, Carlos's eyes are just as perfect. Dark brown, like chocolate. But this Winchester boy . . .
Well, in other news, Old Woman Josie reported an extra angel hanging around her house today. Said he helped fix up her old lightbulb. This angel, she says, was much more impressive than the others angels in our community. Dark hair, blue eyes, and an odd tan trench coat mark his appearances, and he seems to be looking for someone, she says. A man named Dean. Could he be related to the strange brothers moving through our town?
Word just came in that the Sheriff's Secret Police are closing in on the Winchester brothers. Says they've been impersonating cops, FBI agents, just about every law official under the sun. What sneaky behavior! I wonder what these Winchesters are up to. It seems the Sheriff's secret police are going to take them to the abandoned mine shaft on the edge of town for questioning. At least they'll be able to watch some pretty good paid programing, am I right?
Oh. Oh no. That's not good. Not good at all. The new intern, Ezekiel, says they're in front of the radio station. I'm looking out the window now and I – oh wow. That's pretty impressive.
Sorry, listeners. It seems these Winchesters aren't going to go down without a fight. The new angel has teamed up with them and is shielding them with . . . are those wings? Ezekiel's telling me that yes, those large black things are his wings. Oh wow. That's incredibly bright. He's kind of glowing. Is that healthy? I don't know, listeners, but it sure looks pretty. The new angel is lighting up like a Christmas tree. His eyes, his hair, his skin, everything is glowing. It's so strong . . .
Well, folks. It looks like the Sheriff's Secret Police will have to leave the Winchesters alone for a while. That new angel really fried them. Quite literally, I'm afraid.
Let's go to the weather while I – oh whoa, what. What is this?
Hi, buddy, sorry to interrupt, but I've got to borrow your radio station.
Wait, what? You can't just take my radio. I'm in the middle of a show and my listeners are –
Hey there, Night Vale. My name is Dean Winchester and I've got a couple questions for all you dear people.
Dean, give me the microphone.
Easy, Sammy. I can do this.
No, you can't, Dean. You don't even know what you're talking about.
I do too!
Do not.
Do too!
Oh, yeah? Then what's going on here?
. . . I don't know, Sammy, that's what I'm trying to find out.
Dean –!
Anyway, my name is Dean and that idiot in the background is my brother Sam. We've come here about the rather freaky shit going down around here and we'd just like to ask you guys a couple questions. So if you could call in – they can call in right? You! Blondie!
Are you talking to me?
Yes, for God's sake.
Umm, yes. They can call in. The phone's right over there.
Good – if you could just call in with your answer that'd be great. Nice tats by the way.
. . . Thanks.
Hello, Dean.
Dammit, Cas!
My apologies, Dean, I thought you heard me come in.
You're an angle, Cas! You don't make much noise!
Oh, right.
Are you the angel who met Old Woman Josie?
Dean, who's this?
Blondie? That's Cecil. Cecil . . .
Baldwin.
Nice to meet you, I'm Dean.
So I've heard. And you are?
I'm an angel of the Lord.
So you admit that you're an angel.
Why yes. What else would I be?
You're the oddest angel I've ever seen.
What do you mean?
Well, you have a face for one. And only two eyes. It's very odd.
Oh, are you talking about my vessel? This man is Jimmy Novak, a deeply religious man. A sturdy vessel. Worthy.
A vessel? You guys are crazy.
You're calling us, crazy? Man, have you got your priorities mixed up.
You're not from Desert Bluffs, are you?
Excuse me?
Our neighboring town. Disgusting, the lot of them.
Uhh, no. We're not.
Don't answer him, Cas, he's crazy.
I don't know, Dean, he seems like a fairly reasonable man. Aside from the third eye, and tentacles, he's definitely a charming fellow.
What third eye? What tentacles?
Can't you see them, Dean? They're kind of hard to miss.
What are you talking about, Cas? I don't seem anything except a couple freaky tattoos.
Can we focus please! We're losing daylight.
Oh, right. Okay, Sam, I'll you handle the microphone. Just tell the people what they need to hear.
Okay, so if anyone's still listening, we've been getting a lot of reports about some strange hooded figures around her. They like to hang around a dog park, or so I've heard. So if anybody would like to call in about what they've seen that would be –
We're not supposed to know about the dog park.
What now, Cecil?
Or the hooded figures, really, but they're kind of hard to miss.
What is he babbling about?
Listen to him, Dean. He might say something useful.
Oh, come on, Sam! This guy's a nut job.
The hooded figures like to hang around the dog park, but we're not supposed to approach it. Or know about it. Or look at it.
Okay, seriously. What is wrong with these people?
It seems to be part of their culture, Dean. These people might be descended from angels.
Angels? Really, Cas?
No, you're right. Not angels. Some abomination. A twisted form of an angel of lesser servant of heaven. They've got the same characteristics as some of heaven's gatekeepers. Vicious mongrels, those creatures.
Heaven has guard dogs?
Well, of course they do, Sam. They can't just let anybody into the pearly white gates.
I really have no idea what you guys are talking about, but you might want to leave soon.
And why's that, Tentacle-Boy.
The Sheriff's Secret Police are coming with their chopper.
They've got a helicopter?
Everyone's got a helicopter around here.
You know what? Blondie's right. Let's buzz out of here. I'm sick of this place.
Don't forget to call into Cecil about the hooded figures. Here, Cecil, I'll give you my number, and call us back if you hear anything.
Umm, okay. I will, but you probably won't hear from me.
Why?
Because we're not supposed to know about the dog park, or the hooded figures. I thought I told you that.
Yeah, okay. Whatever.
Let's go.
No! Wait, Cas! What about the Impala?
I'll come back for it, we've got more pressing matters to attend to.
But, my baby . . .
Will still be here when I get back.
But . . . last time you zapped me like . . .
I know, Dean. You didn't poop for a week.
Ugh, Cas. Not in front of Sammy.
Really, Dean? You're pathetic.
Shut up. Can we just go?
Alright. Hold on.
. . . .
And there you have it listeners. Quite the drama in our little town today. For those of who are wondering, the Winchesters and their angel just vanished. Literally, they are no longer in the studio, and I have no idea where they went. Mysterious men. With perfect hair and perfect eyes and perfect black wings.
Oh, well. They will be missed.
And it seems they took our new intern with them. I can't find Ezekiel anywhere. That's never good.
To the families of Intern Ezekiel, our most sincere apologies. He will be missed.
I guess it's time for us to finally go to the weather. And while we do that I'm going to go hunt up that Impala Dean talked about. Maybe give him an excuse to come back and visit us.
And now the we – WHAT THE!?
Back. Off. Dean is mine.
. . . .
the weather
