AN: So, according to request, in this chapter the Atlantis team meets Castiel. In return, next chapter Todd will be introduced to the Winchesters (also by request)...should be fun, so stay tuned! Um, I need to also explain that the vision of a Wraith on a dirtbike makes me giggle, but it was better than using the same old "dart"...I dunno, I guess I'm just weird.
Also, in case anyone is wondering, in this AU version, Shep's Mom died...cuz they never really explored that in the series, so...yeah. And I know the action goes kinda fast, but on Word it looks a lot longer...Sorry for that!
Chapter 8
Sheppard's room was dark, save for the light softly glowing in the bathroom as a sort of modified nightlight. Ronon was stretched out in one of the chairs placed around the small table, his gun resting on the table's surface, ready to be picked up if needed. Rodney was curled onto his side on his bed, his blanket replaced with one from Teyla and Ronon's room. He snored lightly every now and then, but didn't wake.
Teyla felt herself slowly nodding off, and each time it happened she snapped her eyes open and blinked a few times, trying to clear her fatigue. She leaned over and checked on Sheppard, placing her hand on his forehead. His fever had gone, she noticed with relief, but he had recently begun muttered in his sleep, his eyelids fluttering rapidly as he dreamt. It didn't seem like a good dream to her, but she dared not wake him.
She again thanked the ancestors for Dean and Sam's sudden appearance into the situation, knowing that somehow, they had been meant to be there. She replayed the events of the past day in her mind, remembering the way Dean had easily taken charge of Sheppard's situation, his crude yet effective tending of the Colonel's wound. It seemed that he'd had much experience with dealing with injuries, even if he didn't follow any "real" medical procedures as he handled them, and she supposed that his father – and their line of work – had much to do with that.
Teyla had about fallen asleep, when she felt a gust of wind suddenly rush around her, driving her bangs away from her face. Her eyes flew open, and she found herself staring at a man in a trench coat, who stood at the foot of Sheppard's bed.
At first, she was too frightened to speak, but once she got over the sudden shock, she straightened her spine and asked, "Who are you? How did you get in here?"
Teyla's voice woke Ronon, who noticed the man immediately and grabbed his gun, pointing it at the back of the man's head. He glanced over to his right, and was amazed that Rodney was still sleeping soundly. Ronon doubted if even an earthquake could wake him, he was that deep in slumber.
"Answer her," he growled, fully expecting the man to turn into a veritable river of information at his tone. What he didn't expect was for the man to turn around and face him, a slightly amused look in his eyes, though his mouth held no such humor.
"I mean you no harm," the man said. "I only wish to speak with the Colonel."
"He is in no condition to speak," Teyla replied, reflexively turning to gaze at Sheppard. "Now, who are you?"
"My name is Castiel."
"How did you get in this room? The door is locked."
"I don't use doors."
Ronon frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. "So how'd you get here?"
"I…" Castiel searched for a word to explain. He could only come up with one. "Flew."
As they pondered his explanation, Sheppard coughed and asked, "What's going on?" His eyes opened lazily as he spoke, and he soon found himself wondering why it was so dark in the room. The last he'd known, it was 9 or 10 in the morning.
Castiel stepped around the side of the bed, ignoring Ronon's gun, which was still pointed at him. "Colonel Sheppard."
"'S me. Who're you?" Sheppard replied, his voice slightly raspy.
"Castiel. Dean and Sam are my…friends."
"Castiel?" Sheppard considered the name. "That's a weird name. You an alien or something?"
He shook his head. "I am an angel of the Lord."
At this, Sheppard exchanged looks with his two friends. "An angel?" He asked. "What, like with wings and all that?"
"He did say he flew here," Ronon chimed in, still keeping his gun level with Castiel's head.
"Okay," Sheppard said, willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt. After all, if he could believe there were ascended beings roaming around the universe as balls of light, then why not angels? "Let me ask you a question, then."
Castiel nodded. "Of course."
"If you're really one of God's angels..." Cass nodded again, "...then why did he let my mother leave?"
"She was ill," Castiel explained, "and in much pain. She begged to be released from her suffering."
Forgetting the pain in his chest and back, Sheppard sat up, an angry look in his greenish eyes. "But he's God! He could've healed her, couldn't he?"
"God's ways –" Castiel began, but Sheppard interrupted him.
"Don't! He took her away from me, and nothing you say can make that okay!"
"John," Teyla said then, coming forward to place her hand on his shoulder, a silent plea for him to calm down. Though his anger still seethed within him, he took a deep breath before speaking again.
"Why are you here, anyway?" He asked the angel.
"To warn you that the demons on Earth are trying to make a deal with the Wraith."
Sheppard peered over at Ronon, who seemed as confused as he was.
"What sort of deal?" Teyla asked before he could, and Castiel turned to face her, his eyes full of compassion. His sympathy for humans had been the reason he'd been kicked out of Heaven, and at times, he wondered if it was worth it. Then, he saw the love they had for each other, as Teyla had for Sheppard - or as the Winchesters had for each other - and he knew he'd made the right choice.
"To allow themselves to be possessed by the demons, so that they can leave Earth."
Sheppard swallowed this news, his sharp mind working through the situation. "If they possess the Wraith and he gets back into the Pegasus…"
"The demons will soon have free reign over the entire universe," Castiel finished the thought for him. "These Wraith will be ten times stronger than they already are, and without their need to feed, they will wipe out every human life they come across."
Everyone was silent as they understood the severity of their situation. Then, Sheppard began to get out of his bed, swinging his legs over the side.
"John, what are you doing?" Teyla asked him.
"We need to get going. I can't just lie here forever."
"But your injury…"
"I'll be alright. I just need to stand up."
Castiel shook his head then. "She's right; your injury is too severe. You would never survive the trip."
Before anyone could argue any further, the angel reached out and touched Sheppard's chest. A bright white light glowed under his hand, and Ronon and Teyla had to look away from it to keep from being blinded. A moment later, the glow faded, and he dropped his hand to his side.
Sheppard stared at him for a beat, puzzled as to what had just happened. Then, he slowly rolled his shoulders back, and when his chest didn't erupt into burning pain, he finally understood.
"Thanks," he breathed.
"Sheppard?" Ronon inquired, as the Colonel stood up easily.
"It's okay, Ronon. He…" Sheppard shook his head, not believing what he was about to say. "He healed me."
"Sam, give Rodney a call and see how close he is to finding that beacon," Dean said, tossing his cell phone over to his brother. In the back seat, Shannon stared out the window, her hand absently brushing the new bandage she sported on her side. She'd drawn her long chestnut hair into a ponytail, and though her eyes were stormy, Dean couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked, especially when the breeze from his open window blew a halo of stray tendrils away from her face.
Sam noticed Dean's expression, and rolled his eyes as he dialed the number for his own cell phone. Only Dean could get sidetracked by a pretty girl during one of the most important missions of their lives. It was twice as bad now, though, as she was also a hunter. Sam shook his head sadly. It was probably Dean's number-one fantasy to "hook up" with a gorgeous female hunter, and Sam knew that once this was over, if they all managed to survive, Dean would certainly try to act on it.
After three rings, Rodney's voice answered. "Hello?"
"Rodney, it's Sam. Dean wants to know if you've got a lock on that message beacon."
"One more minute, and I should have it. Where are you now?"
"Um," Sam glanced at a road sign that was coming up right then. "We're almost to Blue Diamond."
"Okay, you're close, then." A beep sounded from his notepad. When he spoke next, his voice was animated. "Okay, okay, it's about five miles ahead of you."
"Five miles," Sam notified Dean, who nodded silently and unconsciously pressed on the gas.
"Oh, by the way," he heard Rodney say, "We met your friend a while ago."
"My friend?" Sam asked, puzzled.
Rodney chuckled. "Yeah. Castiel."
At the mention of the angel's name, Sam breathed in relief. For a moment, he'd feared that Lucifer had paid them a visit.
"Oh."
"Nice guy."
"Uh-huh. So, Rodney?"
"Yes?"
"Where's the Wraith?" Sam asked, the sinking feeling suddenly returning to his stomach, though he suppressed it as best he could.
"Oh," Rodney replied, looking down at the tracking device to his left. "He's an equal distance from it as you are, but coming from the north. You might be able to cut him off if you time it right."
"Great," Sam breathed, the churning in his stomach turning up a notch.
"What's wrong?" Shannon asked from behind him, her eyes wide.
Turning to Dean, Sam said, "We need to go faster."
"Got it." Dean nearly flattened the gas pedal, driving the needle up to 100 miles an hour.
"I'll call you back when we've got the device," Sam told Rodney, who nodded on his end even though Sam couldn't see him.
"Good. Yes, and be careful."
Sam closed the phone and slipped it into his front pocket, then turned sideways to look at Shannon.
"You're sure about this?" He asked her.
"You bet your ass," she replied, her gaze serious.
"Good," Dean said then, pulling the car off the road and onto the hard, cracked surface of the desert. "'Cause we're here."
They all piled out of the car as soon as Dean cut off the ignition, and hurried around to the trunk. Dean unlocked the trunk with the key and pulled open the hatch, and he and Sam began to dig through the contents of the space, now and then setting things aside. Finally, Sam handed Shannon a shotgun that looked very similar to her own, and a handful of shells to go with it. She loaded six of the shells into the gun, and the rest she pushed into the pocket of the jacket Sam had loaned her. Though it was a little big for her, it effectively hid the fact that she'd been injured, and gave her a bit more protection than just her tank-top would.
Dean and Sam had their guns loaded in a matter of moments, and after a final check to make sure they had everything, Dean slammed the trunk shut.
"Let's make this quick," he said, turning to walk straight into the desert, and Sam and Shannon followed close behind him, their eyes darting to either side as they watched for the Wraith's approach.
They had only gone a distance of a hundred feet or so, when they heard a strange buzzing noise nearby. Dean squinted into the horizon, trying to see what was making the sound, but all he could make out was a small cloud of dust that was quickly nearing their location.
A few moments later, Sam stepped forward and said, "It's him."
Sure enough, the dust cleared slightly, and Dean saw that it was indeed the Wraith. He was riding what was probably a stolen dirt bike, and, Dean noticed, he was coming straight for them.
"Sam, go find the device. We'll deal with him." He cocked his gun, his eyes fixed on the approaching Wraith.
"What?" Sam asked incredulously. "Dean, no."
"Now, Sam!"
With a last pleading look on his face, which Dean saw yet chose to ignore, Sam took off toward the left, leaving Dean and Shannon where they stood.
"Aim for the head," Shannon told Dean. "Nothing else seems to work."
Dean nodded. The Wraith was fifty feet away now, and Dean could see the ghoulish smile on the creature's face, daring him to try and fight. Well, Dean thought, I've never backed down from a challenge.
Twenty feet, Dean estimated. Close enough. He shoved the butt of his gun into his shoulder, and brought the end level with the Wraith's head, keeping a bead on the creature despite the speed of the dirt bike he rode. He was about to fire, when the Wraith suddenly leapt off of the bike and straight at him, knocking Dean to the ground with such force that the gun flew from his hand. It hit the ground and discharged, sending the slug into a nearby cactus, which blew in half.
Shannon managed to gather her wits about her after the Wraith's sudden attack, and aimed her shotgun at the creature. She took a breath and pulled the trigger, and watched as the bullet drove deep into the Wraith's skull. Instead of falling down dead, however, the creature merely screamed at her, and she quickly took a step back out of fear.
As Dean struggled to pull his knife out of its sheath, the Wraith turned its head back to glare at him, and he gasped in surprise. The Wraith's eyes were no longer yellow, but the darkest black he'd ever seen.
Oh, God, Dean realized, he's been possessed.
Dean could hear Shannon emptying her shotgun into the creature, but it had no effect. When she was out of bullets, she started to run at it, a knife of her own in her hand.
"No!" Dean shouted at her, and she slid to a stop and looked at him, confused. "It's a demon!" He explained, and she nodded.
"So, this was the plan, huh?" Dean quizzed the demon within the creature. "This was the deal you were trying to make."
"Yes," the demon hissed. "You're too late, Dean."
"Maybe," he replied, still struggling for his knife. "But he's not."
The Wraith-demon turned to see who Dean had indicated, and saw Sam standing there, a deep frown of concentration on his face. The demon stood up, screeching at Sam, but the younger Winchester only frowned harder and stretched his hand toward the Wraith, his palm out and his fingers bent slightly. His eyes slid closed then, and the Wraith's body began to jerk violently as Sam pulled the demon from him. It emerged from the Wraith's jagged-toothed mouth as a thick, black cloud, which began to swirl around the Wraith's feet like a roiling fog. Sam dropped his chin down onto his chest, and the cloud began to sink into the ground, leaving a dark patch of viscous matter behind.
When he saw that the demon was gone, Dean looked over at Shannon and yelled, "Shoot it!"
Not missing a beat, Shannon leveled the gun once more and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked, and her eyes widened. She'd forgotten that her weapon was empty, as was her pocket. She was about to say something to Dean about it, when another bullet suddenly pierced the Wraith's head, and the creature reeled backward and then fell to the ground.
"Sorry it took so long," a voice called from behind them. Dean stood up, brushing loose sand from his clothes as Sheppard and his team walked toward them, being led by none other than Castiel. "Your friend was kind enough to transport us here. Though I have to admit it's not something I'd wanna do again."
Dean grinned. "I know how ya feel." He stepped forward and took Sheppard's hand, noticing that the Colonel seemed not to be in any pain. He guessed that Cass had something to do with that, as well. "Thanks for the help."
Sheppard smiled. "Don't mention it. I owed you one." Dean cast a curious glance at Teyla, who nodded once in return. Sheppard noticed the look, and continued. "Teyla told me what happened, since I didn't remember any of it."
"Well, as much as I'd love to keep standing out here in 105 degree weather, catching up," Rodney said irritably, "we should find that beacon."
"Lead the way, Rodney," Sheppard offered, stretching out his hand toward the expanse before them. Rodney sighed, and then began trudging off over the desert, his eyes fixed on the device in his hand.
Sheppard shared a knowing look with Dean before following after his friend. Ronon and Teyla went after him, their weapons held down low in front of them. When they were out of earshot, Dean and Sam stood with Castiel, who, despite the heat that surrounded them, looked as cool as always. Shannon was on her way back to the Impala, no doubt to escape the oppressive temperatures. Dean didn't begrudge her that; he could feel the sweat on his back fairly dripping down to his waist. It wasn't a good feeling.
"You know, it wouldn't kill you to smile a little, Cass," Dean joked then. "We won."
Castiel stared seriously back at the brothers. "This was merely a small battle," he replied, his eyes dark. "There's much more coming. And soon."
The smile slid from Dean's face. "I know. But we'll be ready."
Castiel's gaze flicked meaningfully to Sam. "I hope so. For your sakes." Then, he appeared to be listening to something, and said, "I have to go."
Just like that, he was gone again, on some angelic errand or another.
Dean turned to Sam and shrugged. "Guess we're on our own again, for now. Let's go catch up with Sheppard."
TBC...
