The Winds of Change

Chapter 13:

"Falling Angel" by Duran Duran

Love is flawed now; see the lawless cry

Cut my cord now, better then; better off to die.

Here am I, your falling angel, dangled in the blue

I'm your angel and I wish that I could be like you.

The grace of an angel inside a human vessel, like the wind, is invisible—you can feel it and see what it does. The wind is a force that makes leaves shimmer like sequins on swaying trees; that twirls scraps of garbage into tiny tornadoes, slinks through flags or snaps them to attention; or changes clouds into wisps or thunderous mountains.

This gentle wind is like the trade winds of the Caribbean, and it is what an angel inside a human vessel feels. An angel's true power is more like fierce gales that shear against each other as they shift along with the latitude, setting up huge standing storms of fire and sulfur. The energy the angel is churns up the interstellar gas of stars, engaging in a fierce gravitational tug-of-war between the ever-present Dark and the Light. Because of this, to be the vessel of an angel is granted to only a chosen few.

It is an ether wind, so ephemeral it is impossible to perceive by those who are not sensitive. Clouds in the skies above the planets are the natural wind made visible. The angel can only be seen through the actions of its vessel. It has a balance, and that nebulous stability will end if Dean Winchester dies. For Castiel will leave his human form and become a true angel and his wrath will stand against all his enemies. The ground will shake and split asunder. He will enter Hell itself; he does not care what he has to face. Castiel, angel of Thursday, will save Dean.

Jimmy Novak did not understand what was happening to him. The energy Castiel sent out was an invisible filament, like electrically charged particles, swirling unpredictably-eddies in the galactic stream of consciousness. It was the same mesmeric energy that writhed within stars and interstellar clouds; the gravity that bound the galaxy together; the pull of invisible hands-the mystical magnetism that made up the compass of the universe, even on a small scale like within Jimmy. Castiel spoke to him across the chasm of empty space; and, deep within his gut, he felt a change beginning.

The energy in him that was Castiel was a single snowflake—beautiful with just the right amount of proportion—a snowflake that was beginning to melt into an indistinguishable puddle of water. And yet the cold that was rising in him, filling his veins with ice, was reforming the swollen drop of water the snowflake had been into a hoary crystal as Castiel left the boundaries of flesh.

"If I cannot save Dean, I will not return." Jimmy's eyes widen. He has only flashes in his memory of what has happened. He knows if it involves Dean Winchester, then it is beyond serious and Castiel will do what he has to and the angel has no limits when it comes to the hunter. Jimmy knows Castiel loves Dean above all else, perhaps even God. He bows his head as Castiel departs and he wishes him God speed.

OOO

Dean woke up and took a deep breath and then another and a third just to make sure the second wasn't a fluke. He was lying on the greenest grass he'd ever seen. It was a soft, fragrant carpet. He propped up on an elbow and gazed about him. A butterfly flitted from flower to flower. Dean knew roses and that was it. Good guess would be daisies. He sat up, curling his bare toes as his head went back and he moaned when warm sunbeams played over his body, frolicking little prisms dancing down his arms. Dean lay back in the grass and did some cloud busting.

He was content, ridiculously happy, although something niggled at the back of his mind, kind of like the bee that was buzzing near one of the flowers. The sound lulled him and Dean closed his eyes, his limbs languid, completely relaxed. He smiled for no reason other than he just felt so damn good. He yawned. He was a little tired, but, again that something nagged at him and he opened his eyes and stared with renewed interest at his surroundings, but this time he used his hunter's eyes.

"Something's not right," he muttered and leaped to his feet, looking for his boots but not finding them. "Where the hell am I?"
You're not in Hell this time, Dean."

Dean froze. That voice! It sounded so familiar. He turned and saw a slender young woman with long, dark hair and brown eyes. He splayed his hands to ward her off. "Tessa!" he hissed. "Stay away from me! I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Relax, Dean. I'm only visiting you. It can get lonely here and I…" She smiled with an exasperated fondness. "I always had a soft spot for you."

"Tessa, where am I?"

"Limbo." She stated it simply, but the nuance behind that one word gave Dean chills and the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

"Limbo," he repeated flatly. "Where are my boots?"

"You don't need them here."

Dean bent down and grabbed a handful of grass and flung it up into the air. "This," he snarled. "None of it's real!"

Tessa shrugged. "Look at it this way. At least you're not dead."

Dean blinked. "Has my memory been scrubbed or something?"

Tessa smiled. "You passed through the veil. Death has found memory can make time drag here even more. It's an act of kindness so humans won't mourn those left behind."

Dean frowned. "I…left someone behind?"

Tessa sighed. "I really shouldn't be talking to you, but I brought you a visitor. Because of your destiny you're afforded certain perks."

Tessa disappeared and her in place was a very startled man with cobalt eyes fringed by long dark lashes, a handsome, symmetrical face, the pale skin dusted with dark stubble and wavy, unruly dark hair that bordered on black. Dean gave a cry of joy.

"Cas!"

Dean enveloped the man in his arms, kissing him frantically, trying to seal his very soul onto those chapped pink lips. When he started divesting Cas of his clothing, the man finally managed to extract himself long enough to gasp, "I'm not Castiel!"

If a steamroller had run over him, Dean's mood could not have been more flattened. He backpedaled wildly, almost falling. He heaved like a horse coming out of the gate, his eyes wide.

"J-Jimmy Novak?"

"Guilty." Jimmy looked around him. "Nice little corner of Heaven you've got here, Dean."

"Sorry to disappoint you." Sorry I just felt you up and my tongue tried to take out your tonsils while I'm at it! "This is Limbo."

"Why am I here?" Jimmy placed emphasis on I.

Dean shrugged. "Beats the hell outta me."

"Castiel left me and put me here?" Jimmy jammed his hands into the pockets of his trench coat and laughed, close to hysteria. "Seriously? "

"I'm, uh…" Dean coughed behind his hand. "Sorry about…um…"

"I haven't been kissed like that since college." Jimmy said and chuckled.

"You said Cas left you? Where'd he go?"

Jimmy scratched an itchy spot on his temple and hiked his shoulders. He had none of Castiel's mannerisms and Dean felt his irritation rising with each passing second. "I only get flashes when he's in the driver's seat, but I can pretty much gauge his mood."

"And?" Dean persisted when Jimmy paused.

"He's pissed. I don't know who or what has acquired his wrath, but I pity them. I've never felt him so angry." Jimmy leveled a no-nonsense look at Dean. "I'll bet my pew in church you're involved!"

"Hey!" Dean resisted the urge to punch Jimmy. After all, it wasn't his fault. "Yeah, I am, but I don't know if I should tell you."

"Tell Castiel's meat puppet, no, why should you? It's not like I haven't devoted the last year to his service and had glimpses of what he's had in mind for you." Jimmy made a face and swiped a hand over his face and he glowered. "Does that angel never shave?"

For some reason, that struck Dean as funny and he broke up into gut-wrenching laughter. By his peeved look, Jimmy didn't find it all that funny, but Dean's laughter was so infectious, the man joined in after a long moment.

Soon the two of them were gasping for breath and Dean wheezed until he had to stop because his sides were starting to hurt. "You know, Dude, the stubble isn't a bad idea."

Jimmy snorted and wiped his streaming eyes. "My wife hated stubble." He sobered immediately. "Castiel could've dropped me back home while he flies off on the warpath."

Dean shook his head. "Naw, he couldn't. His intention was to keep you safe."

"Like sending you here?"

Dean was confused. "At first I couldn't remember anything, but then I saw you and…"

"Tried to jump my bones," Jimmy added cattily. Jimmy's chuckle was deep as Dean turned five shades of red. "I get flashes, glimpses. Castiel communicates to me sometimes, allows me to see."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "I…uh…aw, damn." He spread his hands wide. "What can I say, dude?"

"You do know he doesn't have to kiss you to save you each time?" Jimmy's brows crept toward his hairline. "He marked you as his from the beginning. That mark on your shoulder was intended as a sign that you belong to him."

Dean frowned. "What mark?"

"Your brain really is scrambled." Jimmy walked over, rolled Dean's T-shirt sleeve up until the red mark burned into his skin could be seen. "His hand print. The beginning of your special bond." Jimmy gave him a cheeky smile. "You never stood a chance, Dean."

"What the hell?" Dean nervously nibbled his bottom lip as he craned his neck so he could get a look at the mark. "You…know?" His fingers traced the imprint and he felt his whole body flush with longing.

"About you and Castiel?" Jimmy gave Dean a look that told the hunter he knew way too much. "Kinda hard not to since you are using my body."

Dean huffed out a breath, hitched one back in, shuffled nervously from foot to foot, and then met Jimmy's blue, blue eyes with a challenge in his emerald green depths. "And how do you feel about it?"

"Like I'm committing a sin." Jimmy shrugged. "What can I say? I come from a religious background and you and Castiel seem to forget that I'm married." Jimmy seemed to sink into thought and then his expression cleared. "I chose this, Dean."

"Do me a favor. Don't call me Dean." Dean looked apologetic. "I mean in that tone."

"You mean use the voice that curls your toes."

"Ya know, Jimbo, you can be a real assbutt when you want to."

Jimmy grinned. He was such a reverse of Cas and Dean found that he missed his angel terribly.

"Cas is in real bad trouble this time, isn't he?"

Jimmy nodded. "I'm afraid he is."

The two men spent the next hour talking, reacquainting. "Sam must be going crazy without you," Jimmy said finally.

"Sam?" Dean inclined his head. "Sam who?"

"Winchester. Your baby brother. The one you sold your soul to bring back, that Sam."

Dean's brow furrowed deeply. "I…don't know what you're talking about. I…don't remember a Sam in my life. I remember Cas and I remember you for some reason."

"What about Bobby Singer?"

Dean shook his head and Jimmy looked concerned. "They mind-washed you when they brought you through the veil."

"Tessa mentioned something about that." Dean looked troubled. "I remember a damn Reaper, but I don't remember this Sam?"

"Your brother," Jimmy corrected.

"What did Sunday School teach you about Limbo?"

They were lying in the grass and Dean's mind wandered to a movie he'd seen once called The Fisher King where the two dudes lay in Central Park. Of course, neither he nor Jimmy was naked. Think of something else, Dean!

"In the theology of the Catholic Church, Limbo, limbus, edge or boundary, referred to the 'edge' of Hell. It's an unproven, speculative idea about the afterlife condition of those who die in original sin without being assigned to the Hell of the Damned."

"Well, thank you Encyclopedia Britannica," Dean said with a snarky grin.

"Bite me, Dean."

The two men exchanged a laugh and settled back into the grass. Jimmy knew why Dean was not allowed to remember Sam. Even though Jimmy hadn't been aware most of the time when Castiel possessed his body, he did know of the close connection of the Winchester brothers.

OOO

"Satan!" Castiel's true voice shattered the trees in the forest. Birds fell from the sky. Lightning streaked through a clear sky. "Come take me if you think you can!"

A great, fiery-colored dragon with seven heads and ten horns, bellowed flame, setting fire to the woods. Castiel had never seen such a beast, but he knew immediately who it was. This was not Dante's sad version of Satan. This was a truly frightening visage, but Castiel was not afraid. He was clad in armor that shone like the sun and was equipped with Michael's sword. Gabriel had appeared to him and given it to him before he went to face Crowley.

As the great beast drew near, Michael's sword burst into holy flame, igniting with such a glare that Satan veered off from his next pass.

Satan's claws tore at Castiel as the two clashed mid-air, but there was no flesh to tear. This was a battle of the spirit. This was as it had been in Heaven when Lucifer and his fallen angels had been defeated. Castiel had been there; he had fought beside Michael. At the time, he'd thought Lucifer's banishment was warranted. Now, he wasn't so sure, but he knew Lucifer could never be released from his cage.

The dragon roared in agony when Castiel plunged the flaming sword into his back. It spiraled out of control and dived, its fiery breath raking the tops of the trees, incinerating them. Castiel paused, holding his flight path, fierce eyes glaring down at the Earth. He didn't expect Satan to fight fair and was not surprised when flying demons surrounded him. Well, they tried, but Castiel moved through the ether and appeared outside of the circle. He slashed with the sword and smote them with his grace. Their smoking carcasses littered the ground.

Even an angel has limits and Castiel knew he was tiring. He knew this was what Satan was waiting for, and, sure enough, another wave of demons attacked. Castiel's grace suffered this time. He had no actually physical body, but he could feel his wings begin to tire and it was almost agonizing to wield Michael's sword.

Satan reappeared and Castiel lost track of some of the heads as they whipped about the lithe serpent-like body of the beast. Leathery wings with six foot long spiked horns at the ends displaced the air, causing a storm of great magnitude. Whenever the two combatants clashed, there was lightning and thunder. An atmospheric disturbance caused the clouds to form a vortex. Castiel and Satan in the guise of the dragon, fought for what seemed like centuries, but it was only hours if measured by the time of man.

They met in mid-air again, locked into a clench, neither one giving in as they struggled to destroy the other, rocketing to the Earth far below them. At the last possible moment, they broke apart. Castiel landed in a snow bank and did not move, dazed. Satan crashed into some trees a short distance away.

Castiel knew he should seize the moment, but his strength was at an end. He prepared to leave and was seized from behind. Two Seraphim held him between them while another angel wrenched Michael's sword from his hands and then two more stretched out Castiel's wings, extending them as far as they could go. Weighted chains with spikes attached were driven through his wings at, what in birds is the datylopatagium brevis and datylopatagium minus. The spikes went through the hollow bones and Castiel screamed in outrage, humiliation and pain.

Michael appeared in a blink of an eye. "You should not have kept my sword, brother. It led me to you." The archangel accepted the flaming sword and it returned to being metal at his touch.

"So, you will turn me over to Satan." Castiel pointedly did not say brother as he normally did. He bore down on the chains, dragging the other angels with him as he charged toward Michael. "I will not go easily!"

Only because he was so weary from his long fight, could Castiel be restrained.

"Nobody wants you." Satan walked into the clearing, back in his Crowley vessel, clearly vexed about the outcome of the battle. "The deal's off. I revoke it."

"Satan," Michael's tone was a warning, but Crowley waved a hand as if at a troublesome fly near his face.

"Dean will die," Castiel began.

"Dean Winchester will not die!" Michael's fury made the other angels cower in fear. He poked Castiel in the chest. "You will tell me where he is and he will fulfill his destiny."

"No. I. Won't. Brother."

"You will tell me or I will forge for you a prison so heinous you will beg for release!"

Castiel would not even raise his head. "No."

"Take him!" Michael ordered. "And you!" He gestured with his sword at Crowley. "Reverse the spell on Dean Winchester."

"Bit of a snag 'bout that, halo boy." Crowley smiled. "He seems to have disappeared from the face of the bloody planet!"

Castiel garnered sheer pleasure from the indescribable expression on Michael's face when Crowley delivered the news. Michael turned and regarded the chained angel suspiciously.

"You must know where he is. He's your special pet."

Castiel honestly did not know where Limbo was so he didn't have to lie. "I don't. If I did, I wouldn't tell you."

"Take him to one of my private chambers."

Crowley, unnoticed by the others, sidled up to Castiel and slipped him a small vial. "Antidote," he whispered. Castiel kept his expression guarded and he tucked the precious vial inside a hidden compartment in his armor. "Why?" Crowley cast a careful look around. Nobody was paying attention to him. "Because you won our fight. I've waited millennia for someone who could best me whose name doesn't begin with M and end with L. That was one hell of a fight."

"I…have a favor to ask."

"A favor?" Crowley preened. "Of little ole me?"

"You have Sam Winchester as your prisoner. I ask that you release him unharmed."

"Done. Anything else? Spit polish your armor while I'm at it?"

"Why would I want you to spit on my armor?" Castiel was truly puzzled.

Michael glanced over and frowned at the angels who were in charge of Castiel. "Take him home," he commanded.

Castiel looked once more at the pristine snow, wished that he was in his vessel so he could feel it. Oh, there was so much he wished he could do. Most of all, he wished he could hold Dean in his arms and kiss him until the hunter clung to him because he was breathless. He wished he could see Dean and hand him the antidote, to witness the joy on his handsome features. He wished they could be together as he'd planned from the beginning. He'd done everything for Dean. Each day in his prison, he would dwell on his hunter and the love they shared.

It's my time; all I have for my crime is such

Knowing that the thing I love is that which I can't touch.

So I will watch your fragile beauty changing in the sun…

Tbc…