Chapter 18: The Two Generals
Castiel took in his surroundings. The office was spotlessly clean and meticulously organized. His eyes were drawn to the wide, gleaming wooden desk that stood beneath a tall window at the far end of the room. Everything was furnished in shades of brown and red, from the pleasantly worn leather sofas to the books that stood in impossibly even rows upon their shelves. Works of art adorned the walls; impressive graphite sketches alongside children's colorful scribbling, all framed and positioned in measured spaces.
General Ulysses was a tall man in his later years. Like his subordinates, he was dressed in a loose-fitting, patterned uniform. Unlike the other soldiers, there was a star pattern on his uniform's jacket and a wing-based insignia above his breast. He wore a distant expression, carrying himself with straight-back confidence and authority. His blue eyes shone with wary intelligence.
"General Ulysses, sir." Rodriguez greeted her general with a curious gesture - a hand to the temple, fingers held together. "This is -"
"Castiel, I've heard." The general gave him a long, hard look. "You got a last name, son?"
"Winchester," Castiel replied with hardly a pause. Helpfully, he added, "Like the rifle."
"Like the rifle," Ulysses repeated, his voice betraying no emotion.
The general had a very firm grip for a human. They shook hands for a very long time, statistically speaking. Well above average, in Castiel's opinion. Perhaps, he mused, theirs was a subculture that emphasized physical contact. Human social norms - so changeable.
In his peripheral vision, he noticed that Rodriguez's mouth was twitching.
He must have done something wrong because the general had dropped his hand abruptly. "Have a seat," Ulysses ordered, gesturing at his desk. "Lieutenant Rodriguez, give us some privacy."
"Your community is impressive. It looks like you're doing well for yourselves," said Castiel, sitting down in his appointed seat. He noticed, on some level, that the chair was a little short and just a bit flimsy, creaking under his weight. But then, in his true form, Castiel was larger than this building. Most man-sized things seemed too small to him.
"We try," said Ulysses, approaching the tall window behind his own seat. With a side-eye glance at Castiel, he drew back the blinds, letting the high noon sunlight pour into the room. The light beamed brightly in Castiel's eyes.
"Oh, thank you," Castiel said honestly. The weather was rather lovely outside.
The general looked at him strangely, contemplatively. He sat down in his own plush seat. Then, all of a sudden, his entire demeanor changed. A bit of tension lifted from his shoulders and a small smile graced his mouth. He looked like a kindly grandfather. Even his voice was softer when he said, "They tell me you came from up north. Must've been quite a journey, what with all the dead folks along the way. How did you manage to get past them?"
"Uh, quietly."
"Quietly? With a toddler?"
"Luckily," Castiel added with a fleeting smile.
"Hmm," Ulysses reclined in his seat. "Well, who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?" he asked, chuckling at his own comment. Before Castiel could ask, he continued, "In my book, you deserve a hero's welcome. I hope my people have been treating you right, all in all."
Castiel inclined his head. "Yes, you have my gratitude for the fresh produce in particular." The chair wobbled when he leaned forward, lowering his voice in a secretive tone. "It occurred to me that, um, the children might not have had their nutritional needs fulfilled. Relying on preserved food as they were." When the general merely frowned at him in response, Castiel tried to clarify, "I've learned that such deficiency could stunt their growth. So, yes, I really must thank you. You've been very generous, considering your own situation is quite dire."
Ulysses let out a huff in surprise. All of a sudden, his kindly manner disappeared, as quickly as it had appeared. He sat up straight, asking "What makes you say that?"
"Well, a balanced diet is a key factor in both the physical and mental development-"
"About our 'situation', wise guy."
Castiel looked at Ulysses in surprise. "I've seen your crops," he said. "You suffer from widespread blight. Pests as well, is that not correct?"
Ulysses gave him a long, searching look. Finally, he gave a tense nod. "Too many people living off of one land," he conceded. "We've got all sorts around these parts - doctors, engineers, teachers, you name it. Decent, hard working people, but not a single green thumb between them."
Castiel narrowed his eyes. "You're not taking in new people, obviously. But surely you'll allow Annabelle and Daliah to remain with their families?" He relaxed at the general's nod. "You should know that one of my charges has had farming experience. He'll be happy to tell you what he knows before we depart. We'll leave as soon as we can, you don't have to worry. So long as we have fuel for the journey." He added gravely, "As much as you can spare."
There was a short pause. "You've got a lot of balls, I'll give you that."
Castiel glanced down, blinking. "Just the usual amount."
"Son, a gallon of gas is worth as much as a week's ration." Ulysses looked at him grimly. "What if I say no? You'll leave those two girls to starve come winter?"
"You misunderstood. Carl is a kind boy. He'll tell you what he knows, regardless of your decision," Castiel said, adding, "General, we won't ask for more than you can give us. Your people drive when they could walk. You're not worried about your gas consumption at all. You're actually producing usable fuel, aren't you? That's good of you, even the Israelites had to replenish after eight days." He licked his lips. He wouldn't say this to Ulysses, but he'd been able to smell their efforts from the moment they had arrived in McLaren, even taste the byproducts from the distillery on his lips.
Ulysses sucked a breath between his teeth. "All right. Since you know so much about us. Sure, the lab boys can get some knock off fuel. It's not easy to make, and it's not perfect, either. Your engine's going to be stone cold dead in a few months, running this stuff."
"We won't need that long," Castiel said, shrugging. "Will you help us, then?"
"Not so fast," The general looked at him in consideration, mouth set in a frown. "You know, when the children started going missing, we thought it was an inside job. We didn't start looking outside the gates until number three disappeared from her bed. She was Rodriguez's niece, Maria. Great kid." He was watching carefully for Castiel's reaction. "Is she dead?"
Castiel looked at his hands. "She was. And she is. I'm sorry."
"Four went missing. Only one came back. Two, counting the new girl. Damndest thing, that. Her father showing up here of all places," Ulysses said dryly. "Apparently, the same damn thing happened to him, right before Zack got to the rest of his family." He sighed, then said. "Now, I spoke to those girls-"
"How are they?" Castiel asked.
"Peachy. They told me the craziest story. Now, somehow you got them back to us, safe and sound. And to top it all of, you'll be teaching us how not to starve?" Ulysses shook his head. "Got to look that horse in the mouth, son. It's just the kind of world we live in."
"I don't know any horses," Castiel admitted, "but I'll tell you anything you'd like to know."
The general slammed his fist down on the desk, temper flaring for the first time. "Four kids, not a mark, not a sound, Castiel Winchester. Who in God's Zack-ridden Earth did it? And how the hell did they make it past our walls?"
Castiel hesitated before he started to dutifully explain the turn of events. As the children had wished, he carefully censored the supernatural aspects of the story. He explained that he himself had been held captive by the same person who had abducted children from different camps and communities. Gently, he told Ulysses that most of the children had been killed by that person before two teenage girls had managed to overpower and kill him.
With every word that came out of his mouth, Ulysses' expression darkened. "Alright, that's enough," he said roughly, waving his hand in a request for silence. Then he all but slumped in his seat, sighing heavily. "I want to believe you, I really do. Those two little girls? They seem to think the world of you. Very loyal. The rest are too, or so I'm told. Rodriguez tells me they do everything that you tell them to."
"That's an odd accusation," Castiel slow, frowning. "What did the girls say to you?"
He gave Castiel as significant look. "The same damn thing you told me. The exact same thing, word-by-word. You…" he sighed again. "You coached them pretty well, I'll admit."
Castiel winced. The general had a point. Indeed, the girls had been coached. By Claire. And so was he, although it bothered him a little to learn that he was as transparent as a pair of nine-year-olds.
"Now, lieutenant Rodriguez thinks you're out to play us. I'm not sure I agree. See, I know all about loyalty," Ulysses said. "You either force it, or you earn it." He sighed, looking very tired. "So which one was it? Forced or earned?"
"What was it for you?" Castiel wondered. He thought not of the children, but back to his own subordinates of past, those he had let down, those who had let him down. Perhaps he could have learned something, had he met Ulysses before. Then again, he had been so arrogant back then. Unlikely that he would have listened to the advice of a human commander.
"Bit of both," Ulysses admitted after a short pause.
Castiel nodded, then said, "General, I'm not a threat to your people. I don't have a secret agenda. The whole truth is... complicated. There is little to gain by it. The person who invaded your community is gone. Isn't that enough?" He held out his hands in a gesture of surrender.
Ulysses' eyes narrowed. "You know I need something better than that."
"Very well," Castiel sighed. He looked the general in the eyes. And reached out.
He didn't do this often. Such a connection… he needed to bring a bit of his true self to the surface, just to the edge of his human vessel. While harmless, it greatly disturbed the intended target. Nevertheless, he looked long and hard into the eyes of the man sitting before him.
And here was the other reason Castiel rarely did this. Humans felt so much. Now more than ever. It was overwhelming. Here was a soul who had known sorrow, had known loss and grief. Here was a soul weighted down by immeasurable guilt, and had done unspeakable things. Castiel would have pitied him, but they were all like this now. Every human survivor carried their own horror story inside of them. Too much of everything tucked inside a tiny flesh body.
He looked at Ulysses, and Ulysses looked at him.
Castiel said, very calmly, "The other children... I couldn't save them. I couldn't save any of them. I was completely helpless. They saved me. The ones who didn't make it, they were… consumed. I knew them, and I couldn't help them. That is my burden." He allowed Ulysses to glimpse at his memories, knowing the man would not understand entirely, but that he would understand enough. "Do you see?"
"Stop," Ulysses gasped. "I believe you. I believe you."
Castiel broke the connection.
Ulysses gasped, ripping his gaze from Castiel. Those were the remnants of the connection: Ulysses' heart was about to burst out of his chest and he was afraid, no, terrified. Little by little, the panic subsided. Ulysses' jumbled thoughts slowed. Then became ordered. Then, at last, became private.
Castiel rose from his seat. He leaned back against the desk next to the general, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he murmured, looking out the window. "I understand now, you're trying to make amends for what you've done. I know the feeling." He stated. "You're still a good man, Leonard Ulysses. Despite it all."
Ulysses lifted his eyes to stare at Castiel in undisguised horror. "You're…"
"Not here to judge you," Castiel said simply. "You know me now. We're not so different, you and I. Will you help me carry out my duty?"
Ulysses shut his eyes, sagging in his seat. He nodded.
A/N: Oh my God, this chapter was a nightmare. It was intended as a character study of Castiel, and he fought me the whole way.
Cas was a big deal in Heaven, right? So, I really wanted to play him off against real soldiers. Who are, by the way, are kind of always vilified in post-apocalyptic stories? Which is kind of weird considering most western countries, US especially, have a serious strong mindset of supporting the troops. At the end of the day, people are people.
Anyway, in my experience, high ranking officers are basically just politicians. I figured playing off someone like that against Cas, there's going to be a lot of posturing, a lot of shady attempts to throw him off guard. Of course, it won't work, 'cause Cas just doesn't get it. But as the good general found out, Cas isn't dumb. Sure, he was unsettled, but not in the way he was intended to be.
Two more things: 1. "Zack" as a title for zombies is taken from WWZ. I really love that book. 2. It's totally possible to make homemade fuel from all kinds of things. Thanks, Google.
Please let me know what you think! Your feedback is MY fuel!