A/N: As promised, here is the next update without the two month delay. Enjoy!
Chapter 14
Castiel made trips into the timestream about once a month. Try as he might to work his way out of his current timeline and back into the one that he had originally left, he always found himself back in the Winchesters' pasts. While he did not mind these visits, they got him no closer to his goal of helping the Sam and Dean of 2010 avert their apocalypse.
"Any luck?" Dean asked when the angel returned from one such trip, landing in the passenger seat of the impala.
Castiel shook his head. He had gotten better at landing closer to when he had left, and Dean's relaxed expression told him that he had not been gone for too long.
"No," he said, glancing out the window at the rocky slopes of the mountains they were driving through. "1994. You spent about half an hour trying to convince me to turn Sam's hair blue, and the rest of the time sulking because I wouldn't do it."
Dean chuckled at the memory.
"Oh yeah," he said, voice tinged with amusement and nostalgia. "I remember being so disappointed when you wouldn't do it. I couldn't understand the point of being best friends with an angel if said angel wouldn't even help me prank my little brother."
"I'm sorry I was such a disappointment," Castiel said, rolling his eyes. "But Sam probably wouldn't have understood the point of being friends with an angel if said angel wouldn't even protect him from getting his hair turned blue."
"Yeah," Dean agreed absently, and there was a questionable look in his eye that Castiel had learned to distrust.
"What did you do to him?" the angel asked suspiciously.
"Hey, it grew back," Dean told him defensively.
"What grew back?"
Dean bit his lip, sending his partner a sidelong glance.
"His hair," he admitted.
"You didn't," Castiel said sternly, though a smile tugged at his lips.
"Oh, I did," Dean said, chuckling. "He got me back for it of course, but man was it funny to see the look on his face when his hair started falling out."
Castiel sighed, shaking his head. Even though he saw so much of the brothers' antics, he still did not always understand them. It was part of their dynamic though, and it seemed to work for them. Castiel had simply learned that it was best not to interfere or take sides.
The angel glanced out of the window again. The glass was rolled down slightly, allowing crisp mountain air to flow through the car. He pulled in a deep breath, turning the handle to lower the window further. He smiled as the wind hit him, ruffling his hair and making him feel as though he were flying, the kind that he used to do for fun, before he had been forced to become so economical with his energy use.
The impala's engine growled, and the car sped up. As the memories of flying intensified, Castiel shot a grateful glance towards Dean. The hunter knew how much his partner enjoyed the speed, and did his best to grant it whenever he could.
They drove like that for a while, neither of them saying anything over the roar of the wind. Eventually though, Castiel could see that Dean was getting cold, so he rolled up his window and sat back in his seat.
"Are we on a case?" he asked into the sudden silence.
"Just finished it actually."
Castiel blinked.
"How long was I gone?" he asked, surprised. They had not been doing anything when he left.
"Two days," Dean said with a grin. "You seem to be forgetting that I'm one of the greatest hunters to ever live."
"It was a simple salt and burn, wasn't it?" Castiel asked knowingly.
"Maybe," Dean admitted with a grimace. Castiel raised an eyebrow at him, and he sighed. "Took me about four hours, and most of that was digging up and then refilling the grave."
"That's what I thought," Castiel said smugly.
ooooooooooooo
When Castiel made his next weekly visit to Sam, the young man was sitting at a table set for three outside of a small café. His leg was bouncing up and down nervously, but when he saw the angel, his face lit up.
"Oh good, you're here," he said, standing to give Castiel a quick hug. "I was hoping you wouldn't make a liar out of me."
"I don't understand," Castiel said as they both sat down.
"Well, you're usually pretty punctual when you visit," Sam explained, glancing around as if he were looking for someone, which was likely, given the extra place setting. "But I didn't seen you last week, so I wasn't sure you'd be here. Is everything all right?"
"Everything's fine," Castiel assured him. "I was just, um, away."
"You've started time traveling again, haven't you?" Sam asked, a hint of disapproval creeping into his tone.
"With your brother's blessing," the angel told him. "And for much shorter periods of time. I still fully intend to stay with Dean, I just have something else that I need to do as well."
Whatever Sam might have been about to say to that was cut off as he focused on something over Castiel's shoulder and stood up with a grin. The angel followed suit, turning to see a beautiful young woman walking towards them. Sam took her hand and kissed her on the cheek when she reached their table, then looked back at Castiel.
"Jess, this is my brother, Castiel," he introduced. "Cas, this is Jessica Moore, my girlfriend."
"It's nice to meet you, Cas," Jessica said with a bright smile, reaching out to shake the angel's hand. "Sam has told me so much about you."
Castiel glanced at Sam, whose expression clearly said that he had not told her nearly everything, especially about him not being human. But he returned the handshake and smiled warmly at Jessica, knowing how much she meant to Sam.
"It's nice to meet you too," he said sincerely. "I look forward to getting to know you better."
They all took their seats around the table and began perusing the lunch menus set out for them. Despite the fact that he was inching closer to human status, Castiel still did not have to eat. He did enjoy it occasionally though, and he knew that it would look strange if he did not get anything.
Evidently he was doomed to look strange either way though, because the waiter looked at him askance when he ordered a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Apparently some of the menu items were only intended for children under the age of twelve, a population to which the angel categorically did not belong. Castiel was willing to select something else, but Sam insisted that he get the desired sandwich. The waiter looked a bit put out by the entire situation, but he agreed to place the order.
"So you're a man of simple tastes, huh Castiel?" Jess asked when the waiter had left, her eyes glinting with amusement.
"I suppose," Castiel said. "I like pancakes and bacon as well, but those weren't on the menu."
"Well, we'll have to go out for brunch sometime," Jess suggested. "I'm a fan of breakfast foods myself."
"I do not understand why some foods are designated as only appropriate for certain mealtimes, or for children," Castiel said, letting his irritation with these nonsensical human restrictions seep into his tone.
"Neither do I," Jess said with mock seriousness. "It's a heinous social construct that should really be done away with."
They launched into a conversation about the arbitrary rules and regulations that governed society. Sam jumped in to offer his opinions on the subject, and Castiel watched with interest as his friend interacted with Jessica. Sam looked at her the way Castiel sometimes caught Dean looking at him, when he thought the angel was not looking. It was a look of tenderness and love, mixed with a hint of surprise. Castiel had once asked Dean what the surprise was for, and the hunter had told him with a shake of his head that it was disbelief that he had gotten so lucky. If that was how Sam felt about Jessica, then Castiel could understand why they would still be together three years later, and why her death would have affected Sam so deeply.
The thought reaffirmed Castiel's conviction that he had done the right thing, made the right choices. By staying with the Winchesters and altering their timeline so heavily, he had ensured that Sam would be able to keep this life that he had worked so hard for. The angel would be able to protect his friend from the heartbreak of losing Jessica, and the misery of the life that followed.
Castiel found himself enjoying their lunch together immensely, even when Sam and Jess teased him for his meal choices. The time went by quickly, and all too soon he and Sam were walking Jessica to her car.
"This was fun," Jess said, echoing the angel's thoughts. "It was so nice to meet you, Cas. See you again sometime?"
Castiel glanced at Sam, who smiled encouragingly.
"Yes," Castiel told her with a smile. "I believe I owe you brunch."
"I'll hold you to that," Jess laughed.
She pulled Castiel into a quick hug, then gave Sam a kiss on the cheek before getting into her car.
"Thank you for this, Sam," Castiel said as they watched Jessica drive away.
"For what?" his friend asked, that smitten smile still lingering on his face.
"For not shutting me out of your life; for introducing me to your girlfriend even though I'm a supernatural creature," Castiel elaborated. "That can't have been easy."
"Cas, to me, you're family first and angel second," Sam said sincerely. "I trust you with my life, and I trust you around my girlfriend."
Castiel smiled, but did not know what to say to that.
"Thank you," he finally repeated, unable to manage anything else.
"You've got nothing to thank me for," Sam said, shaking his head. "I'm just glad to have you around. Want to walk with me back to my dorm?"
Castiel agreed, and they set off down the sidewalk. Sam was quiet, and when Castiel glanced over at him, he found that his face had fallen into lines of seriousness.
"Is everything okay, Sam?" he asked, concerned.
Sam seemed to shake himself, his expression lifting slightly.
"Yeah, fine," he said. "I was just thinking about my friend, Brady. He seems to be going through a rough patch."
"I'm sorry," Castiel told him, remembering Brady from the few times he had seen him with Sam. "Is there anything that I can do to help?"
"No, I'm sure it's just normal college stress," Sam dismissed. Then a thoughtful look took over his face. "But you can tell me why you seemed to recognize Jess when I introduced her to you."
Castiel smiled. He had forgotten how perceptive Sam could be.
"I wouldn't want to spoil anything for you," was all he said, though he did give his friend a wink.
Sam grinned, that sappy look returning to his face. Before long, the two of them reached the dorm building, and Sam turned to give Castiel a farewell hug.
"Thanks for coming, Cas," he said when he pulled away.
"Anytime, Sam," Castiel told him earnestly.
The angel gave his young friend one last smile, before making the relatively short flight to his and Dean's motel room in Hawthorne, Nevada.
"Everything okay?" Dean asked when his partner appeared, glancing up from the book that he was reading on the sofa. "You were gone for a long time."
"Fine," Castiel answered, lifting Dean's legs from one of the couch cushions so that he could sit. "I had lunch with Sam and his new girlfriend."
"Girlfriend?" Dean repeated with a more interested tone as he rested his feet in the angel's lap.
"Yes, Dean," Castiel told him with a tolerant smile. "Your brother was capable of finding one."
"Oh, I never doubted that. He's got that gooey sensitivity that girls go nuts for," Dean said, rolling his eyes. But then he looked thoughtful. "Sammy must be serious about her though, if he introduced her to you. She good enough for him?"
Castiel smiled as he thought about Jess, and the way that she and Sam looked at each other.
"Yes," he said sincerely. "Her name is Jess Moore. She is smart, kind, humorous, beautiful…you would like her, Dean."
The hunter ignored the subtle hint.
"Well, I'm glad he's happy," he said, with a smile that held only a hint of sadness.
"Dean…"
"Don't start, Cas. I'm not gonna do that to him; I'm not gonna pull him back into this, especially not now that he's found a girl he really likes."
"Going to visit him doesn't mean that he'll immediately get pulled back into hunting," Castiel said, frustrated. "All it means is that he won't feel like you hate him anymore."
"He doesn't think I hate him," Dean said quietly. "I know you wouldn't let him think that."
He lifted his book in front of his face and fell silent, effectively ending the conversation. Castiel sighed, but did not press him. He would continue to work on it though. He hated seeing the brothers separated.
ooooooooooooo
Three months later, Castiel's trip to the past was a bit more stressful than usual.
He landed in an area that was much darker than the park he had just left, so it took his eyes a moment to adjust. When he could see, he looked around, startled to find that he was in what appeared to be an abandoned subway tunnel. He was even more startled when he caught sight of a familiar figure bound to one of the concrete columns that supported the ceiling.
"Dean!" he called softly, hurrying forward.
The teenager lifted his head, and Castiel could feel the strength of his relief through their bond. But then Dean's gaze focused on something over the angel's shoulder, and his eyes widened with fear.
"Cas, look out!" he shouted.
Castiel had started turning around the moment Dean's expression changed, but it was still too slow for him to avoid the astonishingly powerful blow that landed on the back of his head. The angel barely had time to register anything but mild outrage before he dropped to the floor.
Castiel had the uniquely unpleasant experience of being fully conscious in a vessel that was decidedly unconscious. His mind was functioning as it normally did, but Jimmy Novak's body was not cooperating with it. He supposed that this was what victims of paralysis endured. He knew that he would regain control in time, but time was what they were probably running short on. Human brains processed sound even when asleep, so Castiel was able to hear what was going on around him, and what he heard was not good.
He could hear Dean calling out to him, and when that elicited no response, the young man switched to verbally abusing their captors. There was a dull thud and a grunt of pain that would have had Castiel seeing red, had he been able to see anything at all, and then there was a moment of silence that suggested that Dean had left the realm of the conscious.
"Punk-ass kid," said a voice that sounded exactly like Dean's, though given the circumstances, Castiel suspected that it was stolen. "I can't wait to kill him when this is over."
"Don't forget who we have to kill first," a female voice reminded. "Do you think John is already onto us? If he sent this guy-"
"He didn't," not-Dean interrupted, kicking Castiel's leg. "This is the busted angel that Dean's obsessed with. He always comes on his own."
"An angel?" the woman repeated, her voice louder and unpleasantly shrill. "Are you insane? We can't get mixed up with angels!"
"Not angels plural," the other voice said carelessly. "It's just the one, and he's useless. Dean's seen the guy practically pass out just from landing too hard. Hell, you were able to knock him out with no trouble."
"But what about when the other angels come for him?"
"They won't," not-Dean said calmly.
"How do you know that?"
"Because Dean knows it. Now hurry up and change."
"What?"
"John knows this guy. It'll be easier for us to get in if he recognizes both of us."
"Are you sure about this?"
"I wouldn't have told you if I wasn't," not-Dean snapped. "Just get on with it. I'll get his clothes while you're shifting."
The woman let out a sigh, but made no further attempt to argue. Castiel heard footsteps approaching, and then felt a cold hand touch his cheek briefly before pulling away. Unsettling tearing and popping sounds began to fill the air, and Castiel suspected that he was hearing a shapeshifter transitioning between forms. He was soon distracted from the noises by hands turning him over roughly and pulling the trench coat from his body, followed by his suit jacket and tie. Then he was propped up against a cold surface, probably a support like the one that Dean had been tied to. His limp arms were yanked behind him and secured in place with what felt like a length of rope.
"I'm ready."
Had Castiel still been in control of his facial muscles, he would have grimaced at the sound of his voice coming from someone else. Well, he supposed that it was not exactly his voice, but he certainly had a better claim to it than the shapeshifter did. But he did not have control of his facial muscles, or any of his other muscles for that matter, so he could do nothing but listen as the two shifters made their final preparations and then exited the subway tunnel, leaving the two men bound and unconscious.
The angel spent the entire time he was paralyzed cursing the weakness that had overcome him in the last few years. Not all that long ago, a blow to the head would not even have made him blink, and now it incapacitated him for an hour. Of course, not that long ago, Castiel had not known the Winchesters. He supposed that some things were worth falling for.
Dean awoke before the angel's vessel did. Castiel heard his friend gasp, and felt worry spike through their bond.
"Cas?" Dean's voice sounded small as it called out, and the angel was reminded of how young he must be. "Cas, are you there? Are you okay?"
Castiel wanted nothing more than to be able to respond, to let him know that he was all right, but his traitorous vessel would not comply. He felt Dean's fear increase, and the boy's breathing sped up. Other than that, there was silence for several minutes, until there was a strange thudding sound, then footsteps headed in Castiel's direction.
"Cas?" Dean asked again, sounding much closer this time.
The angel felt his friend's hands on his face for a moment, before the comforting warmth vanished. The rope around his wrists loosened and then fell away, and he was lowered gently to the ground.
"Cas?" Dean repeated, his voice growing more panicked with each lack of response. "Oh God, what did they do to you? Cas!"
There was an urgent press of fingers against his throat, and Dean heaved a sigh of relief as he registered Castiel's steady pulse.
"Come on, Cas," he said, more calmly this time, tapping the angel's cheek lightly. "Time to wake up, buddy."
Finally, finally, Castiel's body decided it was ready to cooperate. His eyes slid open, and he looked up at the blurry blob hovering over him, smiling slightly as he felt Dean's relief.
"I'm fine," he croaked, sitting up slowly.
He blinked Dean's face into better focus, gauging his friend to be about thirteen or fourteen years old. Too young to be on this kind of hunt.
He winced as his head throbbed, and he raised a hand to the spot where he had been struck. His fingers came away sticky with drying blood.
"What did they hit me with?" he asked hazily.
"A pipe," Dean said, pointing to the offending object, which lay abandoned on the floor. "You sure you're all right?"
"Positive," the angel said, fighting back a grimace of pain as he stood. "We have more pressing matters to deal with."
"Yeah, like killing those creeps that did this," Dean said angrily. "That thing stole my face, Cas! He just ripped his skin off, and it was my body underneath. It was the creepiest thing I've ever seen in my life."
"It's worse than that," Castiel said grimly.
"How?" Dean asked, looking alarmed.
"They impersonated us so that they could go after your father," the angel told him.
Dean's mouth fell open in horror.
"Dad doesn't know about these things!" he said. "He'll think it's us!"
"He's never dealt with shapeshifters before?"
Dean shook his head, and Castiel grimaced. This was not going to be easy.
"Where is your father now?" he asked. "Is Sam with him?"
"Dad was working this case by himself," Dean said, shaking his head. "I don't know where he is. Sammy and I were in school. The principal came and pulled me out of class, but…"
"The principal was not actually the principle," Castiel surmised. Dean shook his head, shuddering at the memory.
"Wait!" the teenager exclaimed, a pulse of fear radiating from him. "Do you think they got to Sammy too?"
Castiel frowned. It was a possibility, but unlikely, given the fact that he and Dean were the only ones in the tunnel, and the other shapeshifter had been in a female form.
"I don't think so," he said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. "Maybe they didn't know about him, or he was too small to suit their purposes."
"Which is to kill my dad?" Dean checked, his voice an octave higher than usual. Of course, that could also have been due to the fact that he did not appear to have gone through puberty yet.
"It seems that way," the angel replied.
"Then what are we waiting for?" Dean demanded. "Let's go help him!"
Castiel met his friend's frightened gaze, a feeling of helplessness rising up within him. He was still drained from his flight through the timestream, and he could barely stand without swaying. On top of that, his trench coat, and the angel blade inside it, was in the hands of the enemy. All of Castiel's instincts told him to avoid going into battle powerless and unarmed.
Dean's panic overrode those instincts however.
Then angel held out his arm, and Dean took it, gripping it tightly. Castiel closed his eyes, searching for John's individual life force in what appeared to be a city of millions. Of the three Winchesters, he was the least familiar with John's signal, so it took him a moment to track it down. When he finally located it, Castiel was alarmed to realize that it was right next to Sam's. The youngest Winchester was in the line of fire after all.
Not wanting to waste another moment, Castiel used his exhausted wings to carry them toward the beacon of those souls.
Now came the difficult part of the plan. Castiel had seen that John and Sam were in the foyer of a small house, the two shapeshifters right beside them. Most of the rooms in the house locked from the inside, but there was one closet that had an external lock. It was this cupboard that Castiel made the destination for his flight.
They landed in utter darkness, and Castiel could feel Dean's confusion.
"Where are we?" the teenager demanded in a whisper.
"I'm sorry," was all Castiel said in answer.
The angel gently tugged his arm free of Dean's grip and stretched out his wings once more. He made the short flight out of the locked closet, leaving his friend behind, safe from whatever conflict was about to follow.
He landed beside the other Winchesters just as the shapeshifter impersonating him raised his stolen angel blade, about to plunge it into John's turned back. Castiel let out a cry of warning, shoving John aside and grabbing his double's arm.
They struggled for the blade. Castiel's double had all of his fighting skills and none of his debilitating weakness, which made the struggle extremely challenging. This was not helped along by the fact that Dean's double was trying equally hard to kill him.
Over the chaos of their fight, Castiel was dimly aware of the shouts and thumping sounds coming from the closet in which he had locked Dean. The part of him that was not focused on surviving the next several minutes wondered if Dean would ever forgive him for this. The part of him that could actually think straight told him to stop being an idiot. Of course Dean would forgive him; he already had.
Castiel managed to hold his own until the sharp report of gunshots rang through the air. He saw holes appear in his double's chest, but the cold smile on the creature's face told him that they were not made of silver, and were therefore useless.
The shots did provide a distraction though. Castiel managed to regain control of his sword, and he embedded it in his double's chest. The magical blade worked where the bullets had failed, and the shapeshifter slumped to the ground.
The remaining shifter let out a cry of rage, and he flung Castiel to the ground. He pulled the angel blade from his fallen comrade's chest and advanced towards John, who fired two more useless rounds into the creature's chest. Castiel stood and placed himself in a protective position in front of the hunter, but a calculating look entered the shifter's eyes, and it changed course abruptly, hurling the silver sword towards the young boy who had been frozen in fear for the duration of the fight.
Castiel reacted on pure instinct the moment he saw his sword leave the shapeshifter's hand. He dove in front of Sam, not having the time to do anything besides taking the blow that had been meant for his friend. He vaguely registered a splintering crash coming from somewhere behind him, but all he could focus on was the weapon that he had just put himself in the path of.
Agony exploded in the angel's left shoulder as the blade embedded itself in his flesh. He slumped to the ground with a grunt, doubting that the wound would be fatal, but still incapacitated by the pain. He could see the shapeshifter advancing on him again, and Castiel reached for his sword, not wanting the creature to get its hands on it again.
Before his fingers could reach the handle however, another hand grasped the silver grip and tugged. Though the motion was as gentle as possible, the sharp slide of the metal from his wound tore a cry of pain from Castiel's lips and his vision tunneled slightly. He could only watch as the real Dean shoved the borrowed blade through his imposter's heart.
The young hunter did not waste time relishing his victory as the dead shapeshifter fell to the ground beside its companion. Dean simply turned and rushed to Castiel, dropping to his knees beside the angel and pulling aside the white shirt that was quickly becoming stained with crimson.
Castiel could hear John shepherding a terrified Sam out of the room, but all he could focus on was Dean's voice, speaking to him in a panicked ramble.
"It's okay, Cas, you're gonna be fine," he muttered as he stared at the triangular hole in Castiel's shoulder, and the angel could tell that he was trying to convince himself as well. "Cas? Talk to me. Tell me you're gonna be fine."
Castiel groaned, turning his head to examine his wound as best he could. Blood was seeping out of it sluggishly, and it was also emitting the blue glow of angelic grace. The sight clearly unsettled Dean, because he quickly shrugged out of his t-shirt and pressed it over the injury.
"Cas?" he asked again, and the panic in his voice was enough for Castiel to convince his vocal cords to start working again.
"It's just…a flesh wound," he forced out, echoing the words that an adult Dean always said to him when the angel fussed over injuries that his partner had sustained on a hunt.
"This is one hell of a flesh wound," Dean argued, raising his eyebrows. "It's glowing, Cas."
"I'll be fine," the angel insisted.
He could already feel the flow of blood slowing. He knew that he would make a full recovery, but wounds made by angelic weapons were always slower to heal than those left by mortal ones.
"Good," said Dean, his eyes hardening slightly once he was satisfied that the angel was not on the verge of death. "Because I'd hate for you to die before I could kill you myself. How could you do that to me?"
Castiel sighed, not having to ask what Dean was talking about. He had known from the second he had locked his friend in the closet that Dean would be furious with him for it.
"I had no choice," he grunted. "I knew that your father and brother were in trouble, and I would not put you in danger as well. I needed to know that at least one of you was safe."
Dean's expression only grew stormier at his words.
"You had no right-" he began, but was cut off by a gruff voice from behind him.
"He made the right call," John Winchester said, walking over to crouch beside his son and the fallen angel.
Dean's gaze dropped. He was not willing to argue with his father, but it was clear that his opinion on Castiel's actions had not changed. John reached over to place his hand beside Dean's on the t-shirt that covered Castiel's wound, applying steady pressure.
"Go," he ordered his son. Dean was clearly about to protest, so he added, "Sammy needs you."
That was enough to quiet the young hunter. He sent the angel another glance that was equal parts furious and concerned, but then stood to go offer comfort to his little brother.
Once he was gone, John looked thoughtfully down at Castiel.
"You really gonna be all right?" he checked.
Castiel grimaced but nodded. The pain in his shoulder was already fading, though it was still exceedingly uncomfortable.
"I can probably sit up, if you're willing to assist me," he said, disliking talking to John while lying on the floor.
The hunter nodded and put an arm under Castiel's good shoulder, helping him into a more upright position. The angel was still not ready to move though, so John propped him up against the closest wall.
"Are there any more of those things coming after us?" John asked once Castiel had gotten as settled as he could. The hunter sent an unreadable glance towards the two bodies in the entryway, shuddering almost imperceptibly.
"No, I believe it was just the two of them," Castiel said with a small shake of his head.
"And what are they, exactly?" John asked, carefully avoiding looking at the bodies again. Castiel supposed it had to be difficult for him, considering one of them looked like his son. For that matter, it was difficult for Castiel as well.
"Shapeshifters," Castiel said grimly, remembering what Dean had said about his father never encountering the creatures before.
"So they can make themselves look like anyone?" John asked.
"Yes," Castiel told him, shifting slightly in a fruitless attempt to make himself more comfortable as he explained. "There are many different types of shapeshifters. Some can change their appearance with ease and with no human model, while others, like those two, form a sort of connection with the human that they wish to copy, before shedding their old skin and replacing it with their new one. The connection extends to the mind as well, so they were able to access our basic thoughts and memories, which is how they knew where to find you."
John looked slightly nauseated at the image of the shifting process, but he did not dwell on it.
"And you need special weapons like yours to kill them?" he asked.
"Not so special," the angel corrected. "Anything made of silver will work on them, and a blow through the heart is best."
John nodded, taking the information in. Then his expression shifted from curious and slightly overwhelmed to angry.
"You want to tell me how they managed to get to Dean, and then to me and Sammy while you were supposed to be looking out for my sons?" he demanded.
Castiel winced at the accusation.
"You know that I am not constantly hovering around your children," he said a bit testily. "I don't think any of us want that. I come and go, and this time when I came, I was too late to stop Dean from being captured. The shapeshifters took me by surprise, and then took my shape. But I came here as soon as I could, and I took care of what would have otherwise killed your entire family."
"What's the point of having you around if you can't stop things like this?" John inquired, and Castiel felt his already short patience slipping.
"Did you know that Sam was deathly ill a few years ago?" the angel asked accusingly. John blinked, startled by the unexpected topic.
"What the hell are you talking about?" he barked.
"It was before I even saved you from that demon," Castiel told him, not bothering to disguise the anger in his voice. "You had left your children alone with nothing but a shotgun for defense, and Sam got sick with a kidney infection. His fever was so high that he was completely incoherent and Dean had to resort to putting him in a bathtub full of ice, but he wouldn't seek medical attention because you had drilled it into his head that hospitals are the enemy. Sam would have died had I not been there, and you were not even reachable to your sons when they needed you. I do not think that you are in a position to be passing judgments on me."
"Are you trying to tell me that I don't care about my children?" John hissed, after a long moment of surprised silence. "I would die for them."
"So would I," Castiel retorted, the slowly closing hole in his shoulder evidence of that. "But that isn't enough. They don't need you to die for them, they need you to be there for them."
Fury flared in John's eyes, and Castiel wondered idly if the hunter was going to strike him. But then the man's gaze dropped to the bloody t-shirt that was pressed to the angel's shoulder, and the fight seemed to drain out of him with a sigh.
"I was really trying to do it right this time," he said quietly. "We've been in this house for almost a month, longer than we usually stay in one place. I've got the boys enrolled in school, and I wouldn't let Dean help with the case, even though he wanted to. I thought it would keep him safe, keep them both safe."
Castiel let out a sigh of his own, letting his head fall back to rest against the wall, suddenly too tired to support it.
"Monsters do not respect the sacred human laws that protect children from their parents' battles," he said regretfully. "With the life that you have chosen, Sam and Dean will never truly be safe from your war. If I thought I had any hope of changing your mind about your choice of profession, I would do whatever it took to convince you, but because I know that nothing I could say will ever be enough to counter the passion and grief that drive you, I will just tell you this: make sure that your boys are ready for the challenges that may arise, but give them the choice about joining you in your mission."
A long silence followed his brief speech, and Castiel took the time to probe his connection with Dean, trying to gauge how his friend was doing. The angel could feel a tumultuous mixture of fear and anger and relief swirling through Dean, and suspected that he would have a hard time shaking off this incident.
"You really care about them, don't you?" John asked eventually, his voice unreadable. "Locking Dean in a closet to keep him safe from the fighting or jumping in front of Sammy, those could have just been part of your job, whatever system you guardian angels have. But a lecture on parenting? That's what gives you away."
"I'm not sure what impressions you have of angels, but I doubt they are correct," Castiel said with a weary smile. "If you think that I was tasked with watching over Sam and Dean, you are mistaken. I do what I do for them because they are like family to me."
He glanced over at John to see what he made of the announcement.
"And you still don't like that, do you?" he asked the hunter dryly, taking note of his expression.
"If I didn't know that you met and became friends with them when they were both adults, you and I would have some serious issues," John said. He ran a hand through his hair distractedly. "But…the boys have so little family left. I'm not sure I have it in me to deny them someone who obviously cares so much. And having seen what you'll do for them, I have to say that it makes me feel better knowing that someone else is looking after them, someone with pull in high places."
Castiel had to let out a bitter laugh at that.
"Well, you're correct in everything except the part about me having an influence in heavenly circles," he admitted. "I'm what you might call an outcast from the other angels."
John raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah?" he asked. "What'd you do?"
"Tried to stop my brothers from starting the apocalypse."
John blinked at him, but could obviously tell that Castiel had no intention of elaborating on his cryptic answer.
"Okay…" he said, drawing out the word. "Well, can I help you with anything? That wound looked pretty nasty."
Castiel removed the stained t-shirt from his shoulder to show John how much the injury had already healed. While he had by no means made a full recovery, the wound had stopped bleeding and had completely scabbed over. The hunter whistled, impressed.
"I wish I could heal that fast," he said appreciatively.
"I used to heal much faster," Castiel told him bitterly.
The two of them sat in silence again. Castiel did not ask to see the boys and John did not offer, but the angel suspected that he had taken significant steps in earning the hunter's trust. Eventually, John glanced at the motionless bodies of the dead shifters, and he let out a heavy sigh.
"I'm sorry I wasn't more help in that fight," he said, and Castiel could not help being stunned. John Winchester did not seem like the type to make apologies.
"There was not much you could have done," he said gracefully. "You would have needed a silver weapon."
"Maybe, but I'm pretty good with hand-to-hand combat. I could have taken some of the pressure off you, given you time to kill those things without having to get stabbed with your own sword."
"So why didn't you step in sooner?" Castiel asked curiously. John stared at him.
"Because one of them looked like my son," he said, as if that should have been obvious.
Castiel supposed that it was obvious, really. He would never have been fooled by the impostors, but not everyone had the ability to discern individual souls, to be able to recognize someone by more than just his face.
"I didn't even know that they weren't you and Dean until you appeared out of thin air and I heard Dean shouting from the closet," John went on. "And when I realized that there were two sets of you, I just couldn't be sure which were the real ones, not with everything happening so fast."
"What made you decide to fire?" Castiel inquired, remembering the sharp report of useless gunshots during the struggle.
"It was the look in that thing's eyes," John said, his gaze distant. "I barely know you, Castiel, but I knew you would never look that bloodthirsty. Besides, it didn't take a genius to figure out that you, the real you, were trying to protect me and Sam."
"But even then, you shot at fake me, not fake Dean," Castiel said probingly. John offered him an unapologetic grin.
"Well, I wasn't 100% sure, and there was no way I was testing the theory out on my kid."
The angel had to smile at that. He was glad for whatever protective paternal instincts John possessed, even if they meant that he would choose his sons over Castiel. Especially if they meant that he would choose his sons over Castiel.
Neither of them felt the need to say anything more, and Castiel was content to rest in place as his shoulder continued to get less and less excruciating. Sam and Dean remained sequestered in another room, but John stayed with the angel until he was finally able to stand, albeit a bit unsteadily. The two of them walked over to the shapeshifters, whose bodies sported matching triangular holes in their chests.
"Silver, huh?" John broke the silence, looking down at the still form of Castiel's impostor.
"It'll work on them like regular weapons work on humans," Castiel confirmed. "I assume you have silver bullets?" John nodded. "Then you'll be fine, should you ever encounter them again."
John nodded again, and Castiel offered to help him dispose of the bodies. It was surprisingly difficult for him to burn the corpse of Dean's lookalike, even though he knew it was just an impostor. There was something extremely unsettling about watching the flames of a hastily constructed pyre turn that familiar body to ash.
Castiel could tell that John did not enjoy the experience either, but he made almost no comment during their task. It was only when the angel was preparing to leave that he spoke again.
"I guess I should be thanking you for this," he said as Castiel shrugged into the trench coat that he had reclaimed from the body of his doppelganger. "But I guess I'm still not used to the idea of…you."
"I understand," Castiel offered, though he really could not empathize much with John's position, as he had never been in a similar one.
John shook his head with a tired sigh, but he extended his hand towards Castiel. The angel shook it, appreciating the gesture, however reluctantly it was presented.
"I take it I'll see you again?" the hunter said, and Castiel smiled at the resignation in his tone.
"I'm afraid you can count on it," he replied.
"Then take care, Castiel," John said with the barest hint of his own smile.
"You do the same," the angel told him.
Then he made the rough trip back to his adult version of Dean. The wound had sapped his strength tremendously, making it difficult for him to control his flight. He probably should have stayed for longer than he did, but he did not want to give John more reasons to dislike him, and he knew that Dean had still been upset with him and would need time to work through it.
Despite the exhaustion, Castiel was eventually confident that he was in the right part of Dean's timeline, and let himself tumble gratefully back to reality. He looked around, finding that he was standing in one of the nicer motel rooms that he had seen. His partner was sitting on the couch and flipping through channels on the small TV in front of him, but he turned the device off as soon as he caught sight of the angel.
Dean let his gaze sweep up and down Castiel's body, eyes pausing on the bloodstained hole in his shirt and the grime and ash streaking his face.
"Shapeshifter incident?" he asked sympathetically.
"Shapeshifter incident," Castiel confirmed with a groan, dropping onto the couch beside Dean. "You could have warned me."
"And risk screwing up the space-time continuum?" Dean asked with mock horror. "I wouldn't dare."
"Or you felt the need to get payback for all of the times I left you in the dark," Castiel grumbled.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Dean said innocently.
Castiel glowered at him, and he shrugged, dropping the act. His face grew serious and his eyes unfocused as he thought back to the day that was so far in his past.
"Believe me, I wish I could have changed things," he said quietly, looping an arm around Castiel's shoulders to pull him closer, but being careful of his injury. "When I saw you get hit in that subway tunnel, and then woke up to find you unconscious and bleeding…I was scared, Cas. I was damn scared. I had seen you hurt before, but never unconscious, never so bad that you didn't respond to me. For a second, I was afraid that you were dead. I don't think I'd ever been that scared in my life, except maybe for the night my mom…Because every other time I got scared, I told myself that my guardian angel was watching out for me and would protect me."
"It was not a pleasant experience for me either," Castiel informed him. "I was aware of everything, but powerless to move, to help you, to ease the fear I could feel in you."
"I didn't know that," Dean said, looking subdued and thoughtful. "I guess I should've figured it out, but with what happened after…"
"I assume you're referring to me locking you in your own cupboard?" Castiel asked, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.
"I was mad at your for weeks after that, you know," Dean said, his tone a bit lighter.
"Oh, I know," Castiel said with a roll of his eyes as he thought back to one of his earlier trips into the past. "I remember being very confused about why you were giving me such a cold elbow."
"Shoulder, Cas. I was giving you the cold shoulder."
"Yes, that was equally frosty," said Castiel. "I had no idea what I'd done, and you were too contrary to tell me, so we spent my entire two hour rest period in complete silence while you pretended to read."
"I wasn't pretending to read!" Dean protested.
"Really?" the angel teased "Because you didn't turn a single page in the entire time I was there."
"You were a little distracting."
"I was just sitting there."
"Yeah. And?"
Castiel smiled and rolled his eyes again. Dean grinned back at him, eyes bright, but then his gaze flickered back down to the angel's bloody shoulder, and he frowned.
"Are you all right, Cas?" he asked. "I just realized that I didn't see you after you got hurt because I was with Sam. My dad said that you were fine, but he measures injuries differently than normal mortals."
"It'll be uncomfortable for a few days," Castiel said with a sigh, the throbbing ache in his shoulder intensifying at the reminder. "But I'll make a full recovery."
Dean nodded, eyes shadowed.
"Sammy had nightmares for a long time after that," he said after a moment. "He'd seen monsters before, of course, but those two looked like his family, and it freaked him out."
"Was he the only one who had nightmares?" Castiel asked softly, studying his partner's distant expression. Dean let out a sigh.
"No," the hunter admitted. "Again and again, I kept seeing you get hit with that pipe, or stabbed with your sword, and there was never anything I could do to stop it, just like there was nothing I could do to stop it when it happened for real. Except in my nightmares, you…"
Dean trailed off, but Castiel understood what had been left unsaid. He knew what it felt like to be haunted by the death of loved ones, real or imagined. His good hand found Dean's and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Dean let out a grateful sigh and leaned his head against the angel's good shoulder. They sat like that for a long moment, simply enjoying the comfort of each other's presence.
"It was also the first time I had seen you without that trench coat," Dean added lightly. "That alone was enough to freak me out."
Castiel chuckled. Now that he lived with Dean permanently, he sometimes opted to don more casual human clothes, but he always wore his usual suit and trench coat when he visited the past.
"I am sorry though, Cas," Dean said more seriously. "I probably should have warned you. It's just that I knew things more or less worked out the way they happened. Believe me, I wish I could have spared all of us that ordeal, but you're the one who's always telling me how dangerous it is to meddle with time, and I didn't want to put you, or any of us, at risk."
Castiel sighed, knowing that Dean was right.
"I understand," he forgave easily. "But I expect you to make this up to me."
Dean grinned suggestively.
"What did you have in mind?" he asked.
"An ice pack would be nice," the angel said, smiling slightly to himself when Dean's face fell into a pout. The hunter let out a long-suffering sigh as he got up from the couch.
"Coming right up."
Dean walked over to one of the duffels that was sitting on the bed closest to the door, pulling out an instant ice pack and breaking it so that the chemicals would mix. He wrapped it in a hand towel from the bathroom before tossing it to Castiel and sitting back down beside him as the angel pressed the pack to his tender shoulder. Dean studied his partner, looking thoughtful.
"What is it?" Castiel inquired, suspecting that there was something besides this injury on his mind.
"Do you ever think about how you always seem to turn up when we need you the most?" Dean asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Sam was dying of an infection; you showed up and saved him. A demon was about to kill all of us; you showed up and killed it. I was in the hospital as a baby; you showed up and healed me. Shapeshifters tried to take out my entire family; you showed up in time to help us. Doesn't that seem like a pattern?"
"I show up plenty of times when I'm not needed as well," Castiel said, though part of him agreed with Dean.
"Yeah, but still, it seems like too much to be a coincidence," Dean insisted.
"You're right," Castiel concurred thoughtfully. "Perhaps I'm drawn to those points in your timeline subconsciously, because I know you need my help."
"Maybe," Dean said quietly. "Well, whatever it is, I'm not complaining."
A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. Please let me know what you think!