A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to chapter TWENTY-FIVE! *Throws confetti* I can't believe it! Thank you all so much for your continued support and love. This fic never would have gotten here without you. Okay, celebration over, time to get to the real Author's Note.
First, I was surprised, I expected more of you to know the answer. Of course, one is not a 'flashback' per se. If any of you remember No Exit, when Dean and Jo are telling each other their best childhood memories, Dean tells the story of how when he was six, his Dad took him shooting for the first time. Bottles on a fence etc. etc. Watch the episode for the rest of the story, but, anyway, that proud smile was something he tucked away and cherished as one of his favorite memories. Incidentally, Jo's story in that ep is the basis for much of the Harvelle interaction a couple of chapters ago. Anyway, the other flashback, and this one is almost a proper flashback and some of you actually guessed it, was the scene from Swan Song, Chuck's history of the Impala, when Dean shoved the Legos in the air vents. I hope you all enjoyed this little exercise, and maybe I will try running this pop quiz again next time we have a flashback scene. ncsupnatfan: You got one right! Yay! I'm glad you enjoyed this chapter. I know I say that on every review response I do, but I promise I really mean it, and I wish I could think of some other ways to put that. The rest of your response is sort of dependent on chapter spoilers. It is posted at the bottom of the chapter. CarverEdlundtheLast: Another 'Legos in the vents' person. Congratulations! I'm glad you liked Sam's dream, it was fun to write. I promise, I am writing more every day. I have a fair number of chapters in the can, and lots of ideas for the future. I actually have a timeline on my computer where I can put all the events I haven't written yet. Hope you enjoy! CatstielWinchespurr: Fluff is my favorite to write. Extreme torturous angst is fun to, because of the emotional depth and intensity, but then I feel guilty about hurting my characters. It's like: "What am I doing?! My babies don't deserve this! I am a horrible person… Ohhh wow, look at that line!" Sorry. I try to make them happy as often as possible. After all, all three (four if you include Bobby) of the poor dears later go to Hell, they need fluff. But, as you said, it cannot last forever. *Sigh* Welcome back to plot!
I do not own Supernatural or its characters.
Chapter 25: Exercises in Trust
Time passed. Sam's birthday came and went. They crisscrossed the country, John taking jobs where he saw them.
Meanwhile, in Heaven, tensions were rising. Raphael, tired of Michael's stalling and refusal to act, decided to take matters into his own hands. So it was that Castiel found himself summoned to the presence of a fairly important angel, one he had heard about on occasion but rarely met.
He waited awkwardly, waiting for the angel to take notice of him and too nervous to speak. He wondered if his disobedience had been discovered. Privately, as the time stretched on, he became increasingly certain that it had, as one's mind often jumps to the worst possible conclusion in the face of inaction and an uncertain future. He had gotten to the point of wondering how he would be killed and whether it would hurt when she looked at him, finally acknowledging his presence, "Hello, Castiel."
He eyed her worriedly, "Hello, Naomi."
"We have an assignment for you. Very important, passed down to us personally by Raphael." He calmed. An assignment. They didn't know. He was safe. "Thank you."
She ignored him, continuing as though he had not spoken, "I am sure that you can appreciate how vital it is that this be completed promptly and well."
"Of course."
She paused, studying him. Apparently satisfied with what she saw, she went back to her briefing, "There are some children, vessels, that we need protected. The Vessels. I believe you know them." His mind raced. Was he, perhaps being reassigned to the case? Surely Anna would never have allowed it. But, maybe…
"It has been determined too dangerous to allow them to wander around loose. They are to be seized. We have a warehouse in Detroit. I'm sure you can locate it. Bring them there."
He understood, and he was glad they would be protected, but there was something about this that made no since to him, "Why me?"
Naomi seemed surprised that he had spoken, "What?"
"Surely there are others better qualified." Ezekiel for example. Now there was a warrior. A loyal one. "Why was I assigned?"
She paused, "Well, you are familiar with the children, with their signals. You can locate them with maximum efficiency. It is important that this task be completed as quickly as possible." She continued to speak, "Now, we have located a vessel. It is the correct one so you do not need to worry about it burning out. However it is a little… underdeveloped… for peak performance as yet, so I wouldn't recommend fighting unless forced. We have already completed the majority of the outreach. All that is needed is the final step, for which you must, of course, be present. And be discrete. We are still not authorized to make ourselves known. Wipe its memory. I trust that this will prove an easy assignment for you."
"Yes, I'm sure." He remained awkwardly for a moment, then prepared to leave. As with all bureaucrats, she clearly had no interest in talking with him, and he did not wish to stay.
A dark-haired preteen lay in bed, sighing as he shifted in an attempt to find a position in which he could sleep. It wasn't working. He had a science test tomorrow, and he was worried about the outcome. He had studied, but none of it seemed to be sticking and he doubted he would do very well. He wished there was some way he could escape it. Closing his eyes, he prayed, "Dear Lord, please let something happen. I can't take this test, I'm not ready. I'm not asking for much, just let the teacher move it up a day or something. I'll take something else too if that's all you can swing. Thanks God. Amen." He wondered if it would really work. His mom said God answered prayer, but he wasn't so sure. After all, he had asked for a bike last Christmas, promised to get good grades for it and everything, and he had opened his gifts to find clothes. Yeah. Some way to answer a prayer.
"Hello, Jimmy."
A voice startled him from his self-pitying thoughts. Whirling to look, he saw his best friend sitting at the foot of his bed. "Sean? What're you doing in my room?"
"I am not Sean. Your mind has constructed a form for me that you can comprehend."
What? He didn't understand a word of that. "O…kay. So, uh, if you're not Sean, who are you? If you don't mind me asking."
'Not Sean' finally turned to look at him. "My name is Castiel. I'm an angel."
Jimmy stared, eyes wide, something about him made Jimmy believe him, "You came in answer to my prayer! Yeah, uh, thank God for me and all, but, uh," He laughed nervously, "I only wanted him to move the day of the test. Sending an angel seems a little overkill."
Castiel narrowed his eyes, as though questioning Jimmy's sanity, "I did not come for you."
"Oh, okay. Well, bye then."
"I came to ask your assistance."
"What? No way man!" Anything that an angel would have trouble dealing with, he didn't want to go near.
"This is very important. There are lives on the line. The entire course of history could be affected."
Jimmy stood up, pacing back and forth as he rubbed a hand through his messy hair. Finally he turned back to Castiel, "What do you want me to do?"
The angel appeared apologetic, "I need to temporarily take your form."
"You mean shape-shift into me? Is that how you look like Sean?"
The done expression was back, "No, that is not the reason I resemble your friend. I need you to let me use your body."
Jimmy stared at him, "You mean…"
"Possession. You are my vessel. It won't work otherwise."
Okay, he thought, this has gone far enouph. I'm out. No nutcase is getting anywhere near me.
"Mom!" He yelled, walking out of his bedroom, "Mom! I need some help in-" He stopped, confused. He was in his bedroom. He had walked through his bedroom door, into his bedroom. Castiel still sat on the bed. "Your mother cannot assist you, I'm afraid. This is a dream."
He was starting to get irritated, "Fine! Well, how do I get out of here?"
"Say yes."
"Say yes?"
"Yes, Jimmy. You need to give me permission to use your body. The arrangement is temporary, I assure you."
The boy sat down beside the angel, head down, thinking. By now he was thoroughly freaked out and confused. He only saw one way out of this. First, however, he had a question. He continued to stare at the floor as he spoke. "Will it hurt?" he asked, voice small, as though he didn't really want to know the answer.
"No. And I promise I will be careful. No harm will come to your form while I am inhabiting it, I promise."
Jimmy looked up into the angel's eyes, his decision made, "Then do it."
Castiel grabbed his arm, light streaming out of the room, grace pouring into the sleeping boy until he was filled up, Jimmy pushed down and out of the way. The 'boy' sat up awkwardly, studying his limbs with fascination, lifting his hand up in front of his face to observe and test the movement of the wiggling fingers. It suddenly occurred to Castiel that he would need clothes, the twelve-year-old's too-small pajamas were inadequate.
He accordingly made his way to the chest of drawers in the corner, pulling on a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt before donning a light black jacket and sliding his blade up the sleeve, ready to drop into his hand at the first sign of trouble. He tested the motion a few times. It had been many centuries since he had had a vessel, and he wanted to be certain he remembered how to operate it. Satisfied, he opened the window, then disappeared into thin air.
A/N: ncsupnatfan: By the way, I know in your review of Sam's premonition you asked if Cas was there to help. Well, now you know. To be fair, I did say that he 'always means well, doesn't he?' and I very purposely based his little apologetic speech in the premonition on speeches he has made in the show right before he does something unbelievably stupid and breaks the world trying to be a hero. Sorry. You can come bomb my house now.